UC.SB    LIBRARY 


TOM    TRACY 


BRIER  HILL; 


OR, 


WHOSE    IS    THE    VICTORY? 


WRITTEN   FOR   THE   AMERICAN   SUNDAT-<CH(WL   UMIOX 


PHILADELPHIA; 

AMERICAN    SUNDAY-SCHOOL   UNIOS. 

No.  1122  CHMTJIUT  STRIST. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1862,  by  the 

AMERICAN  SUNDAY-SCHOOL  UNION, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  tb« 
Eastern  District  of  Pennsylvania. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I.  ttm 

A  WINTRY  WALK & 

CHAPTER  II. 

A  DISCOVERY 18 

CHAPTER  III. 

EVENING    CONVERSATION 49 

CHAPTER  IV. 

THE    BEAUTIFUL    MORNING 62 

CHAPTER  V. 

SODDEN   CALAMITY 74 

CHAPTER  VI. 

¥HE    8AE   EVENING 86 

CHAPTER  VII. 

THE    INTERVIEW 106 

f 


4  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER   VIII.  MM 

IDl   PARTING 136 

CHAPTER  IX. 

GIFTS   AND    LETTERS 147 

CHAPTER  X. 

THE    SCHOOL-FRIEND 171 

CHAPTER  XI. 

THE    OLD    ENEMY 186 

CHAPTER  XII. 

THE   RIDE 206 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE    INVALID 225 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

A   NEW   GUEST 237 

CHAPTER  XV. 

CONCLUSION , 248 


TOM  TRACY  OF  BRIER  HILL 


CHAPTER  I. 

A   WINTRY   WALK. 

IT  was  a  bitter  cold  winter  morning. 
The  snow  lay  piled  in  huge  masses  round 
a  little  brown  house  which  stood  quite  by 
itself  near  the  top  of  a  hill.  All  around 
it,  and  below  in  the  valley,  far  as  the  eye 
could  reach,  lay  the  pure,  white  snow,  glit- 
tering in  the  morning  sun.  It  was  very 
fair  to  look  upon, — this  wide-spreading 
picture,  so  stainless,  so  dazzlingly  white; 
but  little  Toir  Tracy  thought  more  of  the 


i* 


6  TOM    TEA(Y 

stinging  cold  than  of  tin  beautiful  land- 
scape. His  cap  was  tied  ai.der  his  chin,  his 
jacket  buttoned  tightly  round  him,  and 
his  mittens  drawn  as  far  as  possible  over 
the  hands  which  had  outgrown  them. 

Thus  arrayed,  Tom  trudged  cheerily 
down  the  hill,  drawing  his  little  sled  after 
him,  and  whistling  a  merry  tune. 

Tom's  mother  was  a  widow,  who  main- 
tained herself  and  two  children  by  her 
own  industry;  and  you  may  be  sure  she 
had  to  turn  ner  hands  to  all  kinds  of  work. 
Sometimes  she  spun  stocking-yarn  for  the 
farmers'  wives,  sometimes  knit  their  stock- 
ings and  mittens,  sometimes  did  plain  sew- 
ing; and,  as  often  as  she  could  procure  it, 
uhe  took  in  washing  from  the  people  of  the 
village.  In  summer  this  afforded  her  quite 
an  income ;  for  Rockfield  was  such  a  pretty 
little  town,  lying  sc  high  up  among  the 
hills,  with  s?  •  ch  pure,  fresh  air  always  sweep« 


OF   BRIEB,   HILL.  7 

ing  over  it  that  people  from  the  city  .iked 
to  come  there  for  a  few  weeks,  bringing 
their  children  and  nurses.  And  when  they 
asked,  (as  they  were  sure  to  do,)  "Is  there 
anybody  here  who  can  do  fine  washing 
and  ironing  nicely?"  the  answer  always 
was, — 

"Yes:  there's  the  widow  Tracy  does  it 
beautifully :  nobody  ever  found  fault  with 
Iter  washing.  She  lives  about  a  mile  off, 
up  on  Brier  Hill ;  but  her  boy  will  come 
and  get  the  clothes,  and  bring  them  home 
for  you." 

So  the  widow  Tracy  often  had  as  much 
as  she  could  do  from  the  1st  of  July  to 
the  middle  of  September, — when  the  city 
families  went  back  to  their  own  homes. 
The  money  thus  earned  was  carefully  laid 
by  to  meet  the  expenses  of  the  winter; 
for  winter  was  a) ways  a  hard  time  in  th<» 
little  cottag<  on  Brier  Hill. 


8  TOM    TfiACY 

This  year,  one  family  belonging  to  the 
village  had  employed  Mrs.  Tracy  to  wash 
for  them  through  the  winter, — which  she 
considered  a  great  favour ;  and  when  Tom 
went  down  the  hill  that  cold  morning,  he 
had  the  basket  of  clothes  tied  on  his  sled. 
He  was  going  to  school,  but  must  first 
carry  the  basket  to  Dr.  Wilson's, — though 
it  was  considerably  more  than  a  mile  out 
of  his  way. 

How  the  cold  nipped  Tom's  nose  as  he 
went  on !  How  it  froze  the  breath  in  his 
nostrils,  and  pinched  his  ears  and  fingers 
and  toes,  till  he  could  hardly  tell  whethei 
he  had  any  or  not !  But  Tom  had  a  bra\  e 
neart  buttoned  in  under  that  coarse  jacket, 
and  a  warm  current  of  young  blood  flowed 
through  his  veins.  If  anybody  could  keep 
from  freezing,  he  could;  but  he  stopped 
whistling,  for  though  the  tune  was  a 
lively  ono  it  seemed  to  freeze  on  his  lips, 


OF    ERIER    HILL.  9 

instead  of  caching  out  farther  and  farther, 
stirring  up  gay  echoes  in  the  woods. 

We  can  fancy  Tom  saying  to  himself, 
"Well,  this  is  a  pretty  tough  morning,  I 
declare !  I  wouldn't  care  if  I  was  going 
straight  over  to  the  school-house ;  but  then 
mother  wants  the  money  bad  enough.  A 
whole  month's  pay  is  coming  now:  it's  a 
dollar  and  twelve  cents  exactly :  that  will 
help  on  wonderfully.  I  guess  we  can  get 
a  load  of  wood  now ;  for  there's  two  dollars 
laid  up  already.  How  I  should  like  a 
pair  of  boots  like  John  Jones's ! — these  old 
shoes  are  patched  so.  I  don't  much  wonder 
the  boys  laugh  at  them ;  though  it  always 
makes  me  angry.  I  don't  care  if  I  am 
poor:  I  won't  be  insulted  by  anybody, 
— that's  what  1  won't!"  And  he  clenched 
his  chilled  fist  as  well  as  he  could,  and  a 
gush  of  warm  bleed  came  to  his  cheeks, 
as  he  said  it. 


10  TOM    TRACT 

There  was  no  house  upon  tne  road  for 
more  than  half  a  mile.  Thi  snow  had 
blown  in  badly  on  the  side-hill,  and  there 
was  very  little  of  a  path :  so  Tom  had  to 
exert  himself  to  draw  hie  sled  and  basket 
safely  through  the  drifts.  The  first  house 
he  came  to  was  a  large,  square  one,  where 
the  richest  man  in  town  lived, — Colonel 
Moses  Blake.  Tom  had  never  been  inside 
of  this  house,  but  he  had  peeped  in  at  the 
open  door  as  he  passed  by  in  summer,  and 
had  thought,  "How  very  elegant  it  looks 
in  there !  How  I  should  like  to  live  in  such 
a  house!"  This  morning,  he  never  turned 
to  look,  till  he  heard  some  one  calling  out, 
"Hallo,  boy!  I  want  to  see  you." 

Tom  looked  up,  and  saw  Colonel  Blake 
himself,  standing  at  the  side-door.  Leav- 
ing his  sled  in  the  road,  Tom  went  up  the 
walk  in  the  back  yard,  and  stopped  v<»- 
spectfully. 


CF    BKIEB    HILL.  11 

"Can  you  do  an  errand  for  me  this 
morning?" 

"Yes,  sir,  if  there  is  time  before  school 
begins." 

"I  want  to  send  a  bundle  over  to  Long 
Plain,  to  Parker's  store.  You  can  go  over 
and  back  in  a  little  more  than  an  hour.  I 
will  give  you  a  shilling  if  you  will  take  it 
over." 

Tom's  eyes  glistened.  A  shilling, — a 
whole  shilling !  What  a  mint  of  money  it 
seemed  to  him !  He  never  had  had  more 
than  five  cents  for  doing  an  errand  in  hia 
whole  life, — seldom  more  than  two  or  three. 

"I  guess  I  can  do  it,  sir,"  he  answered. 

"This  bundle  is  to  go  by  Express,"  said 
the  colonel,  coming  out  with  a  large  pack- 
age in  his  hand.  "Mr.  Parker  is  going 
over  to  Centieville  to-day,  and  will  take 
it  to  the  Express-office  there.  But  stop: 
I  must  send  some  money  to  pay  fie  Ex- 


12  TOM    TRACY 

press-man:  fifty  or  seventy  five  cents  it 
will  be,  I  suppose.  You  are  an  honest 
lad?"  he  asked,  peering  keenly  into  Tom's 
face  over  his  gold-bowed  spectacles. 

There  was  something  in  Colonel  Blake's 
tone  which  roused  Tom's  indignation;  but 
Colonel  Blake  was  the  great  man  of  the 
village,  and  Tom  stood  in  such  awe  of  him 
that  he  only  said,  "Yes,  sir,"  with  a  tone 
of  proud  defiance  in  his  voice. 

Giving  another  sharp  glance  at  the  boy, 
Colonel  Blake  took  a  dollar-bill  from  his 
pocket-book  and  gave  it  to  him,  saying, 
"Mind  you  bring  back  the  change  all 
right."  * 

Tom  could  not  reply.  He  felt  himself 
insulted  by  the  bare  supposition  of  his 
not  doing  it,  and,  after  repeated  injunc- 
tions from  the  colonel  to  give  it  to  Mr. 
Parker  himself,  he  took  the  bundle  and 
went  very  quickly  out  of  the  yard.  For- 


OF    BSIER    HILL.  J3 


tunately,    the   way  to    Long    Plain   ' 
directly  by  Doctor  Wilson's:  so  he  had 
only  to  go  on  as  fast  as  he  could. 

"Now,  if  I  were  a  great  rich  man  like 
Colonel  Blake,"  he  might  have  said  to 
himself  as  he  went  down  the  hill,  "I 
wouldn't  treat  a  poor  boy  like  that.  I 
wouldn't  take  it  for  granted  he  was  going 
to  cheat  me.  I  guess  I  am  as  honest  as 
he  is,  any  day,  or  anybody  else!"  And 
Tom's  heart  glowed  with  honest  pride  as 
he  thought  how  good  his  dear  mother 
was,  though  she  was  poor. 

Then  his  thoughts  turned  towards  the 
shilling  which  was  to  be  his.  "Anyhow, 
the  old  gentleman  isn't  mean,"  he  thought. 
"lie  pays  a  good  price  for  doing  a  job." 

To  be  sure,  it  was  two  miles  to  Long 
Plain,  over  a  very  drifted  road,  and  Tom's 
going  would  save  harnessing  the  horse 

into  the  sleigh,  as  well  as  a  cold  ride  that 
2 


14  TOM    TRACY 

bitter  morning,  and  James  (the  colonel's 
man-of-all-work)  was  just  then  too  ill  to 
leave  the  house :  so  that  he  would  probably 
have  been  glad  to  pay  five  times  that  sum 
instead  of  going  over  himself.  But  all 
this  made  it  not  less  a  prize  to  Tom,  who 
now  struggled  bravely  up  a  long  hill, 
often  plunging  above  his  knees  into  the 
deep  drifts. 

It  was  a  comfort  to  reach  Dr.  Wilson's 
door  and  carry  the  basket  into  the  clean, 
warm  kitchen. 

'Why,  here  comes  Tom,  I  declare!" 
said  Mrs.  Wilson.  "I  didn't  think  you 
would  venture  over  this  cold,  blustering 
morning.  I  ain  sure  you  must  be  half 
frozen,  poor  child!" 

Tom's  fingers  and  toes  ached  some  as 
the  fire  began  to  warm  them;  but  he 
forgot  all  this,  and  his  eyes  glistened 
with  deHght,  as  gox!  Mrs.  Wilson  brought 


OF    BEIER    HILL.  15 

a  large  bun  and  two  great,  rosy- 
cheeked  apples.  He  ate  the  bun, — foi 
his  walk  had  made  him  hungry:  (when, 
indeed,  was  a  boy  ten  years  old  not 
hungry?) — but  he  put  the  apples  in  his 
pocket. 

Being  well  warmed,  Mrs.  Wilson  paid 
him  the  money  that  was  due  for  the 
washing, — two  silver  half-dollars,  one  ten- 
cent  piece,  and  two  cents.  His  mothei 
had  given  him  her  little  bead  purse  to 
carry  it  in,  and  into  it  he  had  put  Colonel 
Blake's  dollar-bill.  He  now  took  this  out 
to  lay  the  silver  pieces  at  the  bottom, 
and,  shutting  the  clasp,  he  put  the  purse . 
into  his  pocket  and  buttoned  his  coat 
very  carefully  over  it.  It  made  Tom  feel 
quite  old  to  have  so  much  money  in  his 
purse. 

The  warm  room  was  very  pleasant,  bn< 
Tom  must  he  on  his  way:  so  he  tied  his 


16  TOM    TRACY 

cap  over  his  ears,  and  again  sallied  out, 
bravely  facing  the  piercing  north  wind, 
which  had  been  increasing  since  the  early 
morning. 

Many  a  young  boy  would  have  con- 
sidered a  shilling  a  poor  compensation 
for  such  a  cold,  hard  walk  as  lay  before 
Tom  Tracy;  for,  now  that  he  had  turned 
the  corner,  the  wind  blew  directly  into 
his  face,  and,  the  whole  atmosphere  being 
filled  with  particles  of  snow,  it  drove  them 
with  blinding  force  into  his  face  and  eyes. 
But  did  Tom,  as  he  struggled  on,  now 
and  then  turning  his  back  to  the  wind  to 
get  his  breath,  repent  of  his  bargain? 
No,  indeed, — not  he.  He  was  no  coward, 
to  shrink  from  a  little  hardship.  All  his 
life  he  had  been  accustomed  to  tax  his 
strength  to  the  utmcst;  and  these  efforts 
had  knit  his  limbs  firmly  together  and 
aiade  his  muscles  stout  and  strong,  so 


:F    BRIER    HILL.  17 

that  he  could  endure  far  more  than  a 
lad  more  delicately  nurtured.  All  the 
way  amid  the  driving  blast  and  cutting 
sleet,  the  thought  of  his  mother's  joy  at 
the  sight  of  the  shilling  he  should  carry 
home  lay  warm  at  his  hears  and  kept  his 
courage  up. 

On  and  on  he  forced  his  way,  the  snow 
being  deeper  and  the  wind  more  bluster^ 
ing;  but  he  never  had  a  thought  of  com- 
plaining of  his  lot  as  a  hard  one;  for  the 
boys  of  the  New  England  hills  are  made 
of  the  metal  which  rings  back  sharp  and 
true  when  the  test  of  endurance  is  applied. 


18  TOM    TRACT 


CHAPTER  II. 

A    DISCOVERY. 

AT  length,  just  as  Tom's  strength  Lad 
begun  to  flag,  his  stopping-place  came  in 
eight.  He  might  have  been  mistaken  for 
a  small  white  bear,  so  covered  was  he  with 
snow.  It  had  gathered  in  every  crease  of 
his  coat,  and  lay  piled  up  in  funny  little 
drifts  on  his  shoulders,  back  and  knees, 
— while  a  regular  pyramid  of  snow  stood 
on  his  cap,  and  snow  was  frozen  even  on  his 
hair  and  eyelashes:  so  that,  as  he  rushed 
into  Parker's  store,  he  was  a  little  hillock 
of  moving  snow. 

"Hallo I  who  comes  here?  Why,  Tom 
Tracy,  as  I'm  alive!  What  on  earth 
brought  you  here  this  blustering  day?" 


OF    BRIBE    HILL.  9 

Tom  laughed  merrily  as  he  bhook  the 
enow  off  and  produced  his  bundle. 

"I  came  to  bring  this  bundle  to  you 
from  Colonel  Blake.  He  wants  it  taken 
lo  the  Express-office  when  you  go  over 
to  Centreville:  he  said  you  were  going 
to-day. " 

"Why,  yes,  I  did  calculate  to;  but  it's 
such  a  terrible  cold  day  I  had  about 
given  it  up.  However,  one  would  think 
I  might  ride  over  there  if  you  could  get 
here  afoot.  Why,  Tom,  you  are  quite  a 
little  hero!" 

"Now,  I'll  bet  a  sixpence  the  shaver 
don't  know  what  that  means,"  exclaimed 
a  young  man  who  was  lolling  on  the 
counter,  his  heels  dangling  in  front  of  it. 

Tom  coloured  up  at  once.  He  was  sure 
he  did  know, — only  he  couldn't  put  it  into 
words. 

"I  read  once,"  he  at  length  stammered 


20 

out,  "Low  General  Putnam  was  a  hero 
because  he  wasn't  afraid  to  go  into  the 
den  where  the  wolf  was;  but  I  couldn'1 
io  thatl" 

"Bravo,  my  little  fellow!"  shouted  the 
coarse-looking  youth.  "Who  knows  but 
you  will,  when  you  are  big  enough?  I 
guess  you've  got  some  grit,  anyhow!" 

"Did  you  ever  hear  of  any  other  hero?" 
inquired  a  young  man  sitting  by  the  stove, 
who  seemed  much  amused  by  Tom's  reply. 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Tom,  still  blushing, 
"My  mother  said  the  boy  who  wouldn't 
tell  a  lie,  when  they  threatened  to  kill 
him  if  he  didn't,  was  a  true  hero." 

"So  he  was.  And  do  you  think  you 
could  do  that?" 

Tom's  eyes  fell  to  the  floor;  for  he  re- 
membered how  he  had  told  a  lie  once 
only  to  savo  himself  from  a  very  little 
punishment. 


OF    BRIER    HILI.  21 

"No,  sir,"  he  said,  in  a  low  voice. 

"It  often  requires  more  courage  to  tell 
She  truth  than  to  face  a  wolf,"  said  the 
young  man.  "Now-a-days  we  are  not 
very  likely  to  meet  with  wolves,  or 
any  other  wild  animals;  but  we  all  can 
conquer  our  own  evil  passions,  and  so 
become  heroes,  if  we  choose." 

Tom's  eyes  lighted  up,  as  if  he  felt  the 
truth  conveyed  in  these  words;  and  the 
young  man  smiled,  as  he  laid  down  the 
paper  he  was  reading,  and  said,  in  a  low 
voice,  heard  by  no  one  else, — 

"We  shall  probably  never  meet  again; 
but,  Tom,  I  hope  you  will  be  a  hero." 

Tom  made  no  reply, — unless  the  quick 
flashing  of  his  eye  was  one;  and  the 
young  man  took  up  his  paper. 

Just  then  Tom  remembered  the  dollar- 
bill,  and,  going  to  the  counter,  said  to  Mr. 
Parker, — 


22  TOM    TRACf 

"ColcaeJ  Blake  gave  me  a  dollar  to 
pay  the  Express-man,  and  said  I  might 
take  the  change  back  to  him." 

"It  will  be  fifty  cents  for  a  bundle  of 
that  size,"  answered  Mr.  Parker;  and, 
while  Tom  was  getting  out  his  purse,  he 
added,  "I  think  I  will  go  over  to  Centre- 
ville.  It  don't  blow  so  hard  as  it  did, 
and  the  river-road  won't  be  much  drifted : 
then,  Tom,  you  can  jump  in  and  ride  as 
tar  as  the  school-house  with  me." 

This  was  joyful  news ;  and  Tom  thought, 
"What  a  lucky  boy  I  am  to-day!" 

But  all  of  a  sudden  his  face  changed, 
and  he  gave  an  exclamation  which  turned 
all  eyes  on  him.  The  dollar-bill  was  not 
in  his  purse!  No:  he  turned  it  inside 
out,  and  shook  it,  and  there  was  only  the 
two  half-dollars,  the  ten-cent  piece,  and 
the  two  cents.  What  could  have  become 
of  it9  How  could  it  have  got  out? 


OF    BRIER    HILL.  23 

He  examined  his  pocket,  took  every 
thing  out  of  it,  turned  that  inside  out, 
and  shook  every  part  of  his  clothing,  but 
could  find  nothing. 

Tom  was  not  so  much  of  a  hero  but 
that  his  courage  now  gave  way,  and  great 
round  tears  rolled  down  his  face.  All  the 
people  in  the  store  gathered  around  him. 
They  all  questioned  him  as  to  how  he 
came  by  the  bill,  where  he  had  put  it, 
and  where  he  had  last  seen  it;  and  all 
seemed  full  of  sympathy  for  him  in  his 
trouble. 

"Oh,  what  will  Colonel  Blake  think?" 
sobbed  Tom.  "  He  told  me  to  be  sure  and 
bring  the  change  back.  Oh,  what  shall  I 
do?— what  shall  I  do?" 

"But  if  you  stopped  at  Dr.  Wilson's 
perhaps  you  left  it  there." 

"Oh,  no,  I  didn't.  I  remember  putting 
kt  intc  iny  purse  there." 


24  TOM    TRJ.CY 

"  Have  you  taken  out  your  p  irse  since?** 

"No,  sir." 

"Then  it  must  be  you  left  it  there," 
said  the  good-natured  Mr.  Parker.  "  Cheer 
up,  my  little  fellow.  Worrying  never 
makes  matters  better." 

"Yes,  cheer  up,  and  show  yourself  a 
hero  by  bearing  trouble  bravely,"  said 
the  young  man  who  had  before  spoken  to 
him. 

"But  I  don't  know  what  to  do,"  cried 
Tom,  not  feeling  in  the  least  heroic.  "He 
will  think,  perhaps,  that  I  have  taken  it. 
Oh,  what  shall  I  do?" 

"I  will  tell  you,  my  boy,"  said  Mr. 
Parker.  "My  horse  is  in  the  sleigh  now, 
and  we  will  get  in  and  ride  over  to  the 
doctor's  and  uee  if  you  didn't  lea~Te  it 
there." 

"Oh,  thank  you,  sir,"  said  the  poor  boy, 
•—a  gleam  of  hope  brightening  his  face. 


OF    BEIEK    HILL.  25 

They  were  soon  in  the  sleigh,  and, 
though  the  wind  still  blew  pretty  sharply, 
they  reached  Dr.  Wilson's  in  comparative 
comfort.  Tom  rushed  into  the  house  with- 
out waiting  for  any  thing,  and  cried  out, — 

"Did  I  leave  my  dollar-bill  here?" 

"What  dollar-bill?"  asked  the  sur- 
prised Mrs. Wilson;  and  when  Tom  had 
told  his  story,  she  said  she  had  seen 
nothing  of  it,  and  thought  it  could  not 
be  there. 

This  was  sad  news  for  Tom.  "Oh," 
he  cried,  the  tears  beginning  to  fall  again, 
"are  you  sure  it  isn't  here?  I  know  I 
,had  it  when  I  was  here.  I  took  it  out 
of  the  purse  to  put  in  the  money  you 
gave  me  at  the  bottom;  and  then  1 
thought  I  put  it  ba^k  again.  I  never 
took  my  purse  out  again  till  I  reached 
Mr.  Parker's,  and  then  it  was  gone." 

It  was  a  strange  story:   yet,  as  Mrs, 


2  TOM    TEACY 

Wi.son  looked  on  the  open,  honest  faco 
of  the  boy,  she  could  not  doubt  the  truth 
of  it.  Mr.  Parker  had  by  this  time  come 
in,  and  search  was  made  in  every  part  of 
the  room  for  the  missing  bill,  but  in  vain. 
All  were  puzzled.  How  could  it  have  got 
lost  on  the  way,  if  he  had  not  taken  the 
purse  out?  and  he  was  positive  he  had  not. 

Another  search  was  made,  every  article 
of  furniture  examined,  every  table  moved 
out,  every  cushion  shaken  and  turned ;  but 
it  all  proved  equally  unavailing;  and 
again  came  the  question,  "What  is  to  be 
done?" 

"I  am  afraid  Colonel  Blake  will  be  a 
little  hard  on  the  boy,"  said  Mr.  Parker. 
"I  had  rather  it  had  been  any  other  man 
in  town:  he's  such  a  curious  genius." 

"Yes,  he's  peculiar,  very, — but  not,  on 
the  whole,  a  bad  man,  I  think  •  he  given 
away  a  good  iesl." 


OP    BRIER   HILL.  27 

''I  know  it;  but  he  never  does  it  in  a 
pleasant  way :  he  is  always  suspicious  of 
others,  never  feels  any  confidence  in  any- 
body, and  holds  himself  aloof,  as  if  he 
was  better  than  the  rest  of  the  world." 

"Well,  everybody  has  his  faults,"  said 
good,  charitable  Mrs.  Wilson,  who  nevei 
could  bear  to  speak  evil  of  anybody. 

"I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  do,"  said  Mr. 
Parker,  after  a  little  pause.  "I'll  take 
Tom  over  there  in  my  sleigh,  and  settle 
the  matter  the  best  way  we  can.  It's  a 
singular  affair,  I  must  confess." 

Mr.  Parker  was  a  good-natured  man, 
who  had  done  many  a  kind  act  in  the 
course  of  his  long  life;  but  we  doubt  if 
he  ever  did  cne  that  made  the  receiver 
more  grateful  than  Tom  Tracy  was  at 
this  moment.  To  have  faced  Colonel 
Blake's  stern  eye  alone  without  the  bill, 
would  have  been  terrible;  and,  though 


28  TOM    TRACT 

his  heart  fluttered  to  think  o^  doing  it 
even  under  the  shelter  of  Mr.  Parker's 
presence,  he  felt  greatly  relieved,  and 
tried  to  find  words  to  tell  his  friend  how 
glad  he  was.  But  he  could  not  utter  a 
syllable,  and  only  the  srnile  which  shone 
over  his  face  through  the  tears,  like  a  sun- 
beam amid  showers,  revealed  his  feelings. 
It  was  an  uncomfortable  ride  over  to 
Colonel  Blake's.  For  some  time  not  a 
word  was  spoken.  Tom  was  busy  think- 
ing what  he  should  say,  and  what  Colonel 
Blake  would  think,  and  how  distressed 
his  mother  would  be,  and  had  little  dis- 
position to  talk.  He  remembered  how 
indignant  he  felt  an  hour  ago  at  the  bare 
suspicion  of  his  honesty,  and  now  perhaps 
he  would  really  be  regarded  as  a  thief! 
It  was  very  dreadful,  and  he  began  to  cry 
again,  but  very  quietly,  with  his  head 
under  the  buffalces. 


OF    EBIER    HILL.  29 

But  a  comforting  thought  came,  Lnd, 
lifting  up  his  head,  he  suddenly  ex- 
claimed,— 

"We  shouldn't  be  troubled  by  whai 
folks  think,  if  we  are  not  guilty,  should 
we,  Mr.  Parker?  Mother  always  says, 
if  God  knows  we  haven't  done  wrong,  we 
needn't  feel  bad,  if  other  people  do  think 
we  have." 

"That's  it,  my  boy;  that's  it:  if  we 
have  a  clear  conscience,  we  can  look 
everybody  straight  in  the  face.  Don't 
be  worried,  Tom,  if  the  colonel  frets 
some.  I  can't  account  for  the  bill's 
getting  away ;  but  I  as  much  believe  you 
are  an  honest  boy  as  I  do  that  you  sit 
here;  and  I  shall  tell  him  so." 

"Oh,  thank  you,  sir." 

"Now,  mind,  Tom,  this  comes  of  your 
having  a  good  name.  I've  known  you 
ever  since  vo"  could  walk  alone,  and  I 


80  TOM    TRACT 

have  always  found  you  honest  and  truth- 
ful: if  I  hadn't,  I  should  perhaps  think 
there  was  something  wrong  about  this, 
seeing  as  how  we  can't  very  well  explain 
it.  But  I  remember  once  you  gave  me 
back  five  cents  when  I  had  made  a 
mistake;  and  when  you  sell  any  thing — 
berries,  or  chestnuts,  or  whatever  it  is — 
you  always  give  good,  honest  measure, — 
no  shirking,  or  trying  to  cheat:  I've 
noticed  that;  and  a  good  name  is  worth 
something  to  man  or  boy;  remember 
that." 

Tom's  face  glowed  with  honest  pleasure 
at  these  words,  and  he  remembered  how 
>ften  his  mother  had  told  him  that  if  he 
was  always  upright  and  truthful  it  would 
be  of  service  to  him  in  any  doubtful  case. 

"My  mother  has  taught  me  to  be 
honest,  sir,"  said  Tom,  modestly. 

"1    know   that;    I    know    that,    Tom- 


OF    BRIER    HILL.  31 

Inere  isn't  a  better  woman  in  a.)  Rock- 
field  than  widow  Tracy.  You've  had  a 
good  bringing  up,  and  you  ought  to  be 
thankful  for  it." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Tom,  very  proud  to 
hear  his  mother  praised;  for  Tom  was  a 
warm-hearted  little  fellow,  and  loved  his 
mother  dearly. 

They  had  now  reached  Colonel  Blake's. 
The  horse  was  fastened,  and  Mr.  Parker 
and  Tom  walked  up  the  yard.  When 
the  former  rang  the  bell,  Tom's  heart 
came  into  his  mouth  with  such  a  great 
leap  it  almost  stopped  his  breath,  and  the 
time  seemed  very  long  before  a  servant- 
girl  opened  the  door. 

"Is  Colonel  Blake  at  home?" 

"Yes,  sir.  Will  you  walk  into  the 
parlour?  I  will  call  him."  And,  aftei 
shaking  off  the  snow  as  well  as  thoy 
could,  they  followed  her. 


32  TOM    TRACY 

Never  in  all  his  life  had  Tom  been  in 
a  room  half  so  elegant  as  this;  and  if  his 
mind  had  been  more  at  ease, 'J  it  would 
have  greatly  delighted  him  to  see  such 
beautiful  carpet,  chairs  and  sofas,  and, 
above  all,  the  books  and  the  beautiful 
pictures  hanging  on  the  walls  in  splendid 
frames.  Even  as  it  was,  he  couldn't  help 
thinking,  as  he  sat  down  before  the  fire, 
how  nice  that  marble  hearth  looked,  with 
its  shining  brass  fender  and  tall  andirons 
as  bright  as  gold. 

At  first  he  supposed  no  one  was  in 
the  room;  but  he  soon  saw  a  young  lady 
sitting  in  the  recess  by  the  window, 
partly  concealed  by  its  crimson  curtains. 
She  had  looked  up  as  they  entered  the 
room,  and  slightly  bowed  to  Mr.  Parker, 
and  tl  en  returned  to  her  reading.  Tom 
could  not  help  looking  at  her  again  and 
again,  thinking,  each  time,  he  had  nevei 


OF    BRIER    HILL.  ^ 

seen  anybody  half  so  beautiful  before. 
She  made  him  think  of  the  ladies  he  had 
read  about  in  fairy -books,  as  she  sat 
there  leaning  her  head  on  her  delicate 
hand,  with  a  shawl  of  bright,  rich  colours 
thrown  about  her.  But  he  forgot  her. 
and  his  heart  throbbed  violently,  when  he 
heard  footsteps  in  the  hall.  Indeed,  had 
he  been  the  criminal  he  was  afraid  of 
being  considered,  he  could  hardly  have 
/ooked  more  frightened. 

Few  persons  felt  at  ease  with  Colonel 
Blake,  and,  indeed,  there  were  very  few  in 
the  village  with  whom  he  associated  on 
terms  of  equality.  His  manners  were  for- 
mal, and,  though  courteous,  he  was  always 
dignified  and  distant.  After  exchanging 
the  usual  salutations,  and  a  remark  or 
two  upon  the  weather  Mr.  Parker  said, — 

"  You  sent  over  a  bundle  to  me  by  thi« 
lad  this  morning." 


TOM    TBACY 

The  colonel  bowed  his  head. 

"He  brought  it  to  me,  but  on  looking 
in  his  purse  found  he  had  lost  the  bill 
you  sent  by  him:  so  I  thought  I  would 
stop  here  with  him  and  tell  you  about  it." 

Tom  saw  those  cold,  stern  eyes  look' 
ing  over  the  spectacles  at  him,  and  felt 
that  the  soft  brown  eyes  of  the  young 
lady  were  also  raised  to  his  face. 

"  I  considered  it  very  imprudent  at  the 
time  to  give  the  bill  to  him.  Few  lads 
are  honest  enough  to  be  trusted  with 
money,  Mr.  Parker." 

"But,  Colonel  Blake,  I  haven't  a  doubt 
of  Tom's  honesty.  He  lost  the  bill." 

Again  the  soft  eyes  of  the  young  lady 
were  raised. 

"Pardon  me;  but  will  you  relate  the 
circumstances  of  the  case?" 

And  Mr.  Parker,  conscious  that  they 
were  not  such  as  to  ir.sure  his  hearel's 


OF    BBIEK    HILL.  3d 

faith  in  lam,  told  the  story  rather 
bunglingly. 

"Very  remarkable,  certainly.  I  under- 
stand you  to  say  the  lad  never  took  out 
the  purse  after  he  put  the  bill  in  it  at 
Dr.  Wilson's,  till  he  reached  your  store, 
and  then  it  was  gone.  Very  remarkable, 
indeed!  You  can  scarcely  expect  me  to 
believe  this  story,"  he  said,  with  a  signi- 
ficant smile. 

His  eye  and  voice,  far  more  than  his 
words,  conveyed  a  conviction  of  the  lad's 
dishonesty. 

"But  I  have  always  known  Tom  Tracy 
from  his  birth,  Colonel  Blake,  and  his 
mother  too.  I  don't  believe  there's  an 
honester  boy  in  town;  and  all  the  neigh- 
bours will  tell  you  so." 

"Probably  he  had  never  been  so  se- 
verely tempted  before.  There  must  be  a 
first  •ime,  you  know,  sir,"  said  the  colonel, 


36  TOM    TRACY 

m  that  same  stern  tone.  "I  am  sorry, 
young  lad,  to  find  you  beginning  to  walk 
the  downward  path  so  early.  Com- 
mencing a  career  of  crime  now,  what  can 
you  expect  to  become  at  middle  age? 
You  will  doubtless  end  your  days  in  a 
State's  prison,  or  on  the  gallows!" 

To  be  th'.is  summarily  convicted  and 
sentenced  without  any  chance  for  self- 
defence,  so  frightened  poor  Tom  that  he 
turned  deadly  pale;  and,  though  he  tried 
to  speak,  his  lips  only  quivered  without 
giving  any  sound. 

"It  is  rather  hard  on  an  honest  boy,  I 
think,  Colonel  Blake,"  said  Mr.  Parker, 
in  a  somewhat  excited  tone,  "to  take  it  foi 
granted  he  is  guilty.  Even  the  law  hold* 
a  man  innocent  till  he  is  proved  guilty, 
and  in  this  case  there  is  not  a  shadow  of 
proof;  and  the  child's  good  character, 
aurely,  she  uld  have  some  weight.' ' 


OF    BRIEJi    HILL,  37 

"There  is,  it  appears  to  me,  Mr. 
Parker, — -excuse  me  for  differing  from 
you, — but  I  say  there  appears  to  me  to  be 
very  strong  circumstantial  evidence  that 
ne  is  guilty.  He  received  the  bill.  He 
confesses  that  he  had  it  at  Dr.  Wilson's; 
and,  then,  on  reaching  your  store  it  is  gone 
— by  whose  agency,  or  by  what  means, 
he  does  not  pretend  to  explain.  You 
must  be  credulous  indeed,  Mr.  Parker,  to 
believe  him  innocent  in  the  face  of  facts 
like  these." 

"I  do  believe  it,"  said  Mr.  Parker, 
emphatically,  (who  was  a  very  quick- 
tempered man.)  "I  no  more  i/hink  he 
stole  it  than  I  think  I  did.  Here's 
another  dollar  to  make  your  loss  good, 
and  here's  your  bundle.  I  sha'n't  go 
over  to  Centreville  to-day,  and,  if  I  did, 
I  might  lose  your  bindle,  and  then  you'd 

think  I  stole  it." 

i 


38  TOM    TEACY 

A  heightened  colour  on  Colonel  Blake's 
pale,  thin  cheek  showed  that  his  temper  waa 
also  moved;  but  his  voice  retained  all  its 
suavity,  as  he  said,  refusing  the  bill  with 
a  graceful  gesture, — 

"No,  sir:  I  prefer  not  to  take  it.  I,  of 
course,  have  no  feeling  with  regard  to  my 
own  loss;  nor  am  I  accustomed  to  bring 
unfounded  accusations  against  my  neigh- 
bours. In  this  case,  I  think  the  lad 
should  be  so  punished  that  he  will  be  pre- 
vented from  continuing  his  evil  practices 
in  future.  His  mother  ought  certainly  to 
know  of  it;  and,  if  she  is  the  honest  woman 
you  represent  her  to  be,  she  will  probably 
compel  him  to  earn  the  money  and  replace 
it  himself." 

Tom's  heart  swelled  at  the  mention  of 
his  mother,  and  great  tears  brimmed  hia 
eyes,  but  none  fell.  It  was  a  look  of 
sweet  pity  and  tenderness  which  the 


OF    BKIER    HILL.  39 

young  lady  in  the  window  cast  upon  the 
poor  boy,  and  her  voice  was  very  low  and 
gentle,  as  she  said, — 

"Come  to  me  a  moment,  my  little 
fellow." 

Tom  sprang  to  her  side.  "Oh,  I  didn't 
take  it  I"  he  cried,  his  courage  coming 
back  at  that  kind  look:  "I  don't  know 
where  it  is,  any  more  than  you  do.  I 
wouldn't  steal  it  for  all  the  world!"  And 
he  sobbed  violently,  as  the  young  lady 
put  her  arm  round  him  and  drew  him  to 
her  side. 

"God  sees  every  thing,"  she  said,  very 
gently:  "he  knows  whether  you  speak 
the  truth  or  not." 

"Oh,  yes,  ma'am:  he  knows  I  didn't 
take  it,"  he  said,  looking  up  eagerly  into 
her  face,  still  choking  with  sobs. 

"I  believe  you,  Tom,"  she  said,  wiping 
away  the  tears  with  her  handko/jhief:  "I 


40  TOM    TEACT 

believe  you  speak  the  truth  and  God 
will  keep  you  from  all  harm."  And  tears 
stood  in  her  own  eyes. 

Few  dared  to  contradict  Colonel  Blake; 
but  Alice  Ray  was  a  favourite  niece  of  his, 
and  report  said  that,  stern  as  he  was,  he 
never  could  resist  her  gentle  pleadings. 
She  had  now  been  with  him  some  weeks 
on  a  visit;  and  those  who  knew  how  full 
of  love  and  tenderness  her  nature  was, 
could  understand  the  secret  of  her  power 
over  a  man  usually  so  cold  and  proud,  and 
why  he  never  could  find  it  in  his  heart 
to  be  angry  with  her. 

Alice  Kay  was  no  beautiful  princess,  like 
those  described  in  fairy-tales ;  but  she  was 
something  far  better, — a  warm-hearted, 
loving,  Christian  girl,  whose  soul  went  out 
in  pitying  love  to  the  most  helpless  and 
guilty,  because  Jesus  loves  and  pities 
them.  Like  her  Master,  she  loved  little 


OF    BRIER    HILL.  41 

yhildren,  and  would  fain  have  blessed 
them  always,  as  he  did  when  on  earth. 
So,  when  she  saw  Tom's  great  sorrow,  she 
loved  him,  and  longed  to  comfort  him  by 
a  kind  word,  if  nothing  more 

The  colonel  apparently  took  no  notice 
of  what  was  going  on  at  the  window ;  yet 
he  said  to  Mr.  Parker,  "There  are  some 
who  know  too  little  of  the  world  to  think 
evil  of  anybody." 

"Confound  your  knowledge  of  the 
world  1"  thought  Mr.  Parker;  but,  rising, 
he  said,  aloud,  "I  am  sorry  we  can't  think 
alike  on  this  point,  Colonel  Blake;  but, 
as  we  do  not,  we  will  go  home.  I  trust 
you  will  some  day  be  convinced  of  your 
mistake." 

"I  should  be  most  happy  to  find  myself 
mistaken,"  replied  the  colonel, — with  a 
look  which  said  he  was  quite  suie  he 
never  should. 


4* 


4  TOM    TEACY 

Miss  Ray  whispered  some  kind  words 
to  Tom,  ani  they  came  away. 

"  Get  into  the  sleigh,  Tom,  aad  I'll  take 
you  home,"  said  Mr.  Parker,  when  they 
were  fairly  out  of  the  house.  "It's  blow- 
ing very  hard,  and  you  a'n't  fit  to  walk 
through  these  drifts."  And  he  tucked  the 
buffaloes  around  the  child,  muttering  to 
himself,  "I'm  glad  I  haven't  got  that 
man's  heart!  I  wouldn't  be  such  a  piece 
of  cold,  smooth  iron  as  he  is,  for  all  he's 
worth, — the  old,  hard-hearted  tyrant  that 
he  is!" 

Great  was  Mrs.  Tracy's  surprise  at 
seeing  Tom  brought  home  at  this  unusual 
hour.  Her  first  thought  was,  "Some  acci- 
dent has  befallen  him !"  but  her  fears  were 
relieved  when  she  saw  him  spring  out  of 
the  sleigh  and  run  into  the  house. 

Little  Mary  crowed  with  delight,  and 
trotted  to  the  dror  to  meet  him. 


OF    BRIER   HILL.  43 

The  explanation  which  followed  made 
the  mother's  heart  anxious.  A  sharp 
pang  shot  through  it,  as  she  asked  herself, 
"  Can  he  have  taken  it?"  She  had  never 
known  him  take  any  thing  which  did  not 
belong  to  him ;  but  she  knew  he  was  very 
far  from  perfect,  and  might  fall  under 
strong  temptation. 

"  Thomas,  my  boy,  come  here,"  she  said, 
"and  tell  me  all  about  it, — just  how  it 
was."  And  she  stroked  the  curls  back 
from  his  forehead,  and  looked  down  into 
his  clear  eyes  with  the  deep  insight  of  a 
mother's  vision.  Tom  met  that  steady 
gaze  promptly,  fearlessly;  and  as  he 
went  on  telling  her,  minutely,  all  that  had 
taken  place,  she  felt  sure  he  was  speaking 
the  truth.  A  silent,  joyful  thanksgiving 
went  upwards  from  her  heart;  for,  let 
what  would  ccme, — poverty,  suspicion ,  loss 
of  fiiends, — she  could  bear  it  all  and  giv« 


44  TOM   TRACY 

thanks,  so  that  her  precious  boy  was  but 
honest  and  truthful. 

She  was  very  grateful  for  Mr.  Parker's 
kindness,  but  declined  receiving  the  dollaj 
he  wished  to  leave  to  replace  the  one 
which  had  been  lost. 

"I  will  wait  a  day  or  two,"  she  said, 
"and,  if  nothing  is  heard  from  it,  I  will  go 
over  myself  and  see  Colonel  Blake  and 
pay  him.  It  is  very  hard  to  be  accused  of 
theft;  but  I  think  those  who  know  Tom 
will  at  least  be  slow  to  suspect  him  of  it. 
I  feel  sure  we  shall  find  some  trace  of  the 
bill,  and,  in  the  mean  time,  I  will  keep 
quiet  and  hope  for  the  best.  If  I  thought," 
she  added, — her  voice  trembling  with  emo- 
tion,— "if  I  thought  he  had  done  it,  it 
would  break  my  heart! — yes,  it  would 
break  my  heart  1"  And  she  burst  into 
tears. 

Oh,  how  solemnly  Tom  vowed  to  him- 


OF    BRIBE   HILL.  45 

self  that  lie  never,  never  would  break  her 
heart  1 

Mr.  Parker  wiped  his  eyes.  "Yes," 
said  he,  "there's  no  trouble  like  having 
our  children  »o  wrong.  But  Tom,  here, 
I  am  sure,  won't  bring  that  trouble  on 
his  mother." 

"  I  hope  not.  He  is,  on  the  whole,  a 
pretty  good  boy,  and  a  great  comfort  to 
me." 

"Yes,  yes:  we  all  think  a  great  deal  of 
Tom;  and  I  don't  believe  any  man  who 
has  a  spark  of  human  feeling  in  him  will 
believe  he  was  to  blame  in  this  business. 
I  don't,  for  one!"  And  the  kind-hearted 
man  rose  to  go. 

"You  have  done  me  a  service  money 
could  never  purchase ;  and  I  know  not  how 
to  thank  you,"  said  the  poor  widow,  whose 
heart  was  full.  "Yon  have  defended  my 
poor  boy's  character  and  stood  by  him  in 


£6  TOM    TBACY 

the  hour  of  need.  The  blessing  of  th.« 
widow  and  the  fatherless  will  le  with 
you." 

Mr.  Parker  felt  a  choking  in  his  throat, 
and,  though  he  gave  several  loud  hems,  he 
couldn't  find  his  voice:  so,  giving  the 
mother's  hand  a  hearty  shake,  and  nodding 
his  head  at  Tom,  he  entered  his  sleigh 
and  rode  off. 

"I  declare,"  the  good  man  said  to  his 
wife  that  night,  (after  they  had  been  dis- 
cussing the  matter  and  he  had  given  vent 
to  his  indignation  against  "that  confounded 
old  iron-hearted  colonel,"  by  calling  him 
all  the  hard  names  he  could  think  of,)  "I 
mean  to  see  more  of  that  widow  Tracy. 
They  must  be  very  poor  there :  every  thing 
looks  like  it  about  the  house.  I  don't  be- 
lieve there's  wood  enough  drawn  up  to  last 
a  month.  I  gaess  I'll  just  let  the  men 
draw  her  over  a  good  load  when  the  road? 


OF   BRIER   HILL.  4? 

are  broken  a  little.  It  won't  hurt  us  to 
give  a  poor  widow  a  little  lift  now  and 
then:— eh,  wife?" 

"No,  indeed:  we  don't  think  half 
enough  about  the  poor,"  said  the  old  lady, 
wiping  her  spectacles.  "How  they  must 
suffer,  such  weather  as  this!  If  we  can 
scarcely  keep  comfortable  with  our  wood- 
house  full  of  good,  dry  wood,  what  must 
they  do,  with  scarcely  a  stick  to  burn?" 
And  she  put  on  her  spectacles,  knitting 
away  faster  than  ever;  for  those  large, 
warm  stockings  were  for  a  rheumatic  old 
woman  at  the  poor-house. 

"I  mean  to  keep  an  eye  on  that  boy: — 
he's  a  smart  little  chap,  any  way.  There 
isn't  many  boys  would  have  thought  they 
could  get  over  here  in  this  terrible  blow 
to  earn  a  shilling,  -which,  by  the  way,  he 
never  got, — confound  that  old  fellow's 
meanness'  I  can't  bear  to  see  a  child 


48 


TOM    TRACY 


abused; — I  never  could.  But  Tom  sha'n't 
suffer  by  this :  nobody  will  believe  he  took 
that  money : — -it  don't  look  rational. — Aa 
if  nobody  ever  lost  a  bill  before!"  And 
lie  gave  the  logs  a  great  punch,  which  sent 
thousands  of  sparks  flashing  and  crackling 
np  the  chimney. 


OF    BBIER    HILL.  49 


CHAPTER  HI. 

EVENING   CONVERSATION. 

THE  mother  and  son  were  sitting  alone 
in  the  cottage  on  Brier  Hill  that  night,  for 
little  Mary  had  long  been  sound  asleep. 

The  fierce  wintry  blast  howled  around 
the  dwelling,  and  then  went  roaring  down 
the  hill,  while  the  forest-trees  creaked  and 
moaned  as  if  a  legion  of  evil  spirits  had 
taken  possession  of  them.  But  there  was 
peace  in  the  widow's  heart.  She  trusted 
in  God,  and  therefore  feared  no  evil.  She 
had  experienced  tco  much  of  his  fatherly 
kindness,  even  in  the  midst  of  trials,  to 
doubt  his  love ;  and,  though  she  was  some- 
what saddened  by  the  event  of  the  day, 


50  TOM     fEAOT 

she  believed  her  boy's  innocence  would 
eventually  be  proved,  and  so  she  possessed 
her  soul  in  patience. 

Not  so  with  Tom.  He  was  a  boy  with 
all  a  boy's  impetuosity ;  and  he  could  not 
brook  injustice.  He  was  honest  and  truth- 
ful and  warm-hearted.  His  besetting  sin 
was  anger;  and  not  all  his  mother's  teach' 
ings  had  given  him  self-control:  so,  though 
he  loved  her  dearly,  he  often  pained  her  by 
his  outbursts  of  passion.  It  was  so  to- 
night. He  could  not  think  of  Colonel 
Blake  without  a  torrent  of  angry  feeling 
rushing  through  his  heart;  and  he  could 
think  and  talk  of  nothing  else. 

"If  I  ever  live  to  be  a  man,  I'll  make 
him  sorry  for  this ! — I  will  1"  he  exclaimed, 
his  eyes  flashing  and  his  cheeks  crimson- 
ing 1  "He  has  no  business  to  tell  me  I 
lie  and  steal,  when  everybody  knows  I 
don't!" 


OF    BRIER    HILL.  51 

"Be  quiet,  my  child.  He  certainly  did 
very  wrong;  but  there  is  no  use  in  your 
keeping  yourself  excited  about  it.  You 
must  learn  to  forgive  those  who  persecute 
you  and  despitefully  use  you,  or  you  can 
never  hope  to  be  forgiven.  You  are  a  great 
comfort  to  me,  Tom, — you  are  so  willing  to 
help  me,  and  so  kind  to  me  and  to  your 
little  sister.  I  don't  know  how  I  could 
get  along  a  single  day  without  you.  But 
your  violent  temper  keeps  me  in  constant 
anxiety.  I  am  really  afraid  you  will  do 
something  dreadful  one  of  these  days,  un- 
less you  gain  some  self-control.  How 
often  you  have  promised  you  would  try  tc 
keep  your  temper  in  subjection!  and  yel 
you  fly  into  a  paasion  at  every  provoca- 
tion." 

"I  know  it,  mother;  but  I  can't  help  it 
I  can't  help  getting  angry." 

"  Do  you  try  to  help  it,  my  child?" 


52  TOM    TEACT 

"Yes,  I  do,  mother;  I  reaDy  do,  some- 
times. Some  mornings  I  think,  'Now,  to- 
day I  won't  get  angry,  let  what  will  come: 
I  will  be  just  as  good  and  pleasant  as  a 
lamb  all  day  long;'  but  then  something  is 
sure  to  come  along  and  upset  it  all,  and, 
before  I  have  time  to  think,  1  am  just 
as  angry  as  I  can  be.  I  can't  help  it,  be- 
cause, you  see,  it  comes  before  I  know  it." 

"Weli,  Tom,  if  you  have  learned  one 
truth,  that  you  can't  control  your  temper 
yourself,  you  ought  also  to  learn  another, 
• — and  one  of  the  most  blessed  truths  con- 
tained in  the  Bible, — that  there  is  a 
Helper, — one  who  can  always  enable  U8 
to  do  right  and  to  feel  right." 

"I  know  what  you  mean.  You  think 
that  Christ  could.  But  I  don't  believe 
be  can,  mother;  that  is,  I  don't  believe 
he  is  thinking  about  a  boy  like  me.  If  I 
were  a  man,  it  might  be  different, " 


OF    BRIER    HILL.  53 

Mrs.  Tracy  sighed.  She  kne^v  that  just 
this  kind  of  infidelity  was  lying  at  the 
root  of  most  of  the  crimes  and  miseries 
of  the  world, — this  want  of  belief  in 
Christ's  presence  with  us  individually,  in 
his  interest  in  us,  his  love  for  us,  his 
willingness  and  ability  to  help  us  at  all 
times  and  in  all  places. 

"Yes,  he  is  thinking  about  you,"  she 
answered.  "Jesus  was  once  a  little  boy 
himself.  There  was  a  time  when  he  was 
just  as  old  as  you  are  now, — just  ten  years 
old.'  It  is  because  he  became  a  man — a 
child — that  he  has  so  deep  a  sympathy  with 
children.  He  is  brought  near  to  them. 
'  He  was  in  all  points  tempted  like  as  we 
are,' — as  you  are, — 'but  without  sin."1 

"But  I  don't  think "  Torn  began, 

and  then,  stopped  abruptly. 

"Don't  think  what,  my  child?" 

"I  am  afraid  you  will  th'nk  it  is  wic'ceti 

6* 


54  TOM    TLACY 

to  say  it;  but  I  was  thinking — I  didn't 
believe  he  was  ever  charged  with  stealing 
when  he  was  a  boy." 

"If  he  was  not  wrongfully  accused 
then,  it  was  the  only  portion  of  his  life  in 
which  he  escaped.  He  was  aJ  the  time 
charged  with  bad  deeds  he  never  com- 
mitted and  which  his  whole  soul  abhorred. 
Yet  he  never  became  angry.  He  endured 
the  contradiction  of  sinners  against  himself. 
How  meekly  he  bore  all  these  accusations ! 
How  ready  he  always  was  to  do  them  good 
instead  of  evil!  Oh,  Tom,  my  dsar  boy, 
if  you  could  only  have  something  of 
Christ's  spirit  in  your  heart! — and  he  can 
help  you  to  have  such  feelings — such  holy, 
forgiving,  blessed  feelings — as  he  himself 
had.  Nobody  else  can  do  that.  I  can  do 
a  great  deal  for  you,  but  I  can't  reach  your 
heart  and  put  right  feelings  there;  but 
Jjsus  can, — and  he  will,  if  you  wish  him 


OF    BRIER    HILL.  55 

to.  He  loves  cnildren,  and  wants  them 
to  be  happy;  but  he  knows  they  never 
can  be  happy  while  sinning.  Why  do 
you  think  he  forbids  you  to  be  angry?" 

"Because  it  is  wrong,  I  suppose." 

"Yes,  because  it  is  wrong,  and  also 
because  such  evil  passions  will  make  you 
very  miserable.  He  wants  you  to  be 
good  that  you  may  be  happy;  for  he 
knows  you  never  can  be  happy  in  any 
other  way.  You  know  yourself  you  are 
not  happy  when  your  heart  is  full  of  anger 
and  hatred  and  revenge." 

"  No,  not  very, — though  sometimes  there 
seems  to  be  a  kind  of  pleasure  in  it,  too." 

"Not  much  ;  not  by  any  means  so  much 
as  in  feeling  pleasantly  and  kindly  to 
every  one.  When  your  anger  has  die<l 
away,  and  you  love  me  and.  love  little 
Mary  ani  love  everybody,  you  are  aa 
happy  as  a  bir-d,  and  can  sing  almost  aa 


56  TOM    TB1CY 

merrily  as  a  robin  or  a  bob-o-link.  You 
never  sing  when  you  are  angry." 

"  Why,  I  never  thought  of  that  before, 
-but  I  don't." 

"No,  nor  are  you  ever  very  happy — 
you  are  so  made  that  you  cant  be  happy 
— when  your  heart  is  full  of  evil  passions, 
But  a  very  blessed,  sweet  feeling  comes 
into  our  souls  when  we  heartily  forgive 
those  who  have  wronged  us,  and  try  to  do 
them  good  instead  of  evil.  I  want  you 
to  know  how  sweet  this  feeling  is,  by  your 
own  experience." 

Tom  looked  at  the  stove  very  earnestly, 
as  if  in  deep  thought;  but  he  said  nothing. 

"I  want  you  to  remember,  Tom,  when 
you  are  tempted  to  be  angry,  that  Jesus 
Christ  loves  you,  and  will  heir  you  to  do 
right  if  you  ask  him.  Perhaps  at  the  time 
you  can't  go  away  by  yourself  and  pray; 
out  you  can  lift  up  a  silent  petition  for 


0?    BEIER    HI1L.  57 

help ;  and  tie  will  hear  the  faint-jst  breath- 
ing of  the  soul,  wherever  you  are  or 
however  many  may  be  about  you.  I  want 
you  to  think  of  Christ  as  a  helper;  for 
such  he  really  is, — -just  such  a  helper  as 
we  all  need  through  our  whole  lives." 

Eight  o'clock  was  Tom's  bedtime;  and 
every  night  Mrs.  Tracy  kneeled  down  with 
him  beside  her,  to  ask  God's  blessing 
before  they  slept,  and  afterwards  they 
sang  a  hymn.  Mrs.  Tracy  had  a  remark- 
ably sweet  voice,  and  Tom  sang  quite  well 
for  one  so  young.  It  was  one  of  his  great 
pleasures  to  sing  this  evening  hymn, — 
especially  when  the  tune  was  one  in  which 
he  could  make  a  good  deal  ol  noise;  but 
to-night  his  heart  was  tender,  and,  when 
his  mother  thanked  God  for  his  kind  care 
that  day,  and  then  besought  him  to  forgive 
all  their  sins  and  .help  them  to  forgive 


68  TOM    TRACY 

those  who  had  injured  them,  and  to  make 
their  hearts  gentle  and  patient  and  loving, 
even  as  Christ's  was,  he  tried  to  follow 
the  words,  and  to  feel  them,  so  as  to  make 
the  prayer  his  own.  He  was  glad  to  sing 
one  of  his  hymns  that  night, — that  is,  one 
he  had  learned  at  the  Sabbath-school, — to 
the  sweet  tune  of  Greenville.  It  was 
this: — 

"  Jesus  Christ,  our  Lord  and  Saviour, 

Once  became  a  child  like  me: 
Oh  that  in  my  whole  behaviour 
He  my  pattern  still  might  be  1 

"All  my  nature  is  unholy; 

Pride  and  passion  dwell  within ; 
But  the  Lord  was  meek  and  lowly, 
And  was  never  known  to  sin. 

"  While  I'm  often  vainly  trying 

Some  new  treasure  to  possess, 
He  was  always  self-denying, 
Patient  in  his  worst  distress. 

"Often  I  shall  be  forgetful 

Of  the  lessons  he  has  taught,— 
Idle,  passionate  and  fretful, 
Or  indulging  foolish  thought. 


OF    BRIER   HILL.  59 

"  Then  permit  me  not  to  harden 

In  my  sin  and  be  content, 

But  bestow  a  gracious  pardom 

And  assist  me  to  repent." 

Toin  kissed  his  mother  good-night  very 
affectionately ;  for  the  evil  passions  13 ad 
now  all  gone  from  his  heart;  and  then  he 
went  up  to  his  room. 

It  was  a  very  small  one,  under  the  roof. 
It  was  not  nicely  plastered ;  but  the  walls 
were  of  rough  boards,  and  these  not 
tightly  put  together,  so  that  the  snow 
sifted  in  at  the  cracks,  and  to-night  a 
little  pile  lay  right  on  Tom's  pillow;  but 
he  was  used  to  such  things,  and  only 
laughed  as  he  brushed  it  away.  It  was 
pretty  cold  in  his  bed  at  first;  but  then 
how  warm  it  grew,  and  how  snug  and 
cosy  he  felt  lying  there  under  the  warm 
blankets,  while  the  doors  creaked,  the 
windows  rattled  and  the  fDundation 
shook! 


60  TOM    TEACY 

It  was  a  wild  night  even  for  B/ier 
Hill;  but,  amid  the  fury  of  the  elements. 
a  fair  vision  rose  before  the  fatherless 
child:  the  soft,  pitying  eyes  of  Alice  Ray 
gaztl  upon  him,  and  the  gentle  tones  01 
her  voice  floated  like  music  on  the  air, 
mingling  with  the  wild  roaring  of  the 
blast,  till  he  was  wrapt  in  sleep  and 
pleasant  dreams. 

And  when  the  delicately-nurtured 
maiden  went  to  her  room  that  night, — a 
room  filled  with  light  and  warmth  and 
every  comfort  which  wealth  and  taste 
could  furnish, — she  too  thought  of  the 
poor  child  whose  eyes  had  been  lifted  to 
her's  so  pleadingly,  and  her  heart  yea?ned 
over  him  with  love  and  tenderness.  "li 
I  could  only  do  something  for  thai  pool 
boy,"  she  thought,  "and  for  thai  good 
mother  of  his  1  I  wonder  if  I  can  be  oi 
service  to  them  in  any  way?" 


OP    BRIES    HILL.  61 

And  when  she  kneeled  to  ask  God's 
blessing  on  her  own  soul,  she  prayed  that 
his  love  might  bless  that  fatherless  one 
and  keep  him  from  all  evil  and  make 
him  his  own  obedient,  trusting  child. 

And,  while  the  wild  night- wind  swept 
in  its  mighty  strength  far  over  hill  and 
valley,  God's  eye  kept  watch  alike  over 
the  luxurious  couch  of  the  fair  maiden 
and  the  hard,  rude  pallet  of  the  boy. 


TOM    TRACY 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE   BEAUTIFUL   MORNING. 

A  GLORIOUS  morning  succeeded  that 
tempestuous  night.  Tom  opened  the  out- 
side door  just  as  the  sun  was  rising;  and 
around  and  below  him,  far  as  the  eye 
could  reach,  lay  the  hills  and  valleys,  all 
calm  and  silent,  as  if  no  breath  of  the 
storm-king  had  ever  reached  them.  How 
beautiful  the  snow  was,  lying  everywhere, 
— on  hill,  meadow  and  forest, — piled  up 
in  all  kinds  of  fantastic  shapes,  each  fair 
and  lovely  as  if  formed  by  the  hand  of 
ait!  As  if  formed  by  art!  When  did  art 
ever  mould  images  half  so  pure  and  ei- 
quisite  as  lay  grouped  tog(  ther  on  yonder 


OF    BRIBE    HIHk  63 

hill-side,  or  carve  any  thing  so  light  and 
graceful  as  the  wreaths  on  those  old  hem- 
locks, or  the  feathery  sprays  that  drooped 
from  every  little  flower-stalk  at  their 
feet?  The  light  fingers  of  Titania  herself, 
with  all  her  fairy  troop,  could  have  fash- 
ioned nothing  so  instinct  with  true  poetic 
grace  and  beauty.  The  wind  had  not 
been  at  work  all  that  long  winter  night 
for  nothing; — no,  indeed!  He  had 
whirled  the  snow  aloft,  and  borne  it 
along,  and  laid  it  down  just  where  it 
would  show  to  the  best  advantage;  and 
now  the  whole  world  looked  fair  and 
lovely  as  a  bride  in  her  marriage-robes. 
Its  pure  garment  of  unsullied  snow  flashed 
and  sparkled  as  if  countless  diamonds 
were  scattered  over  it;  and  above  all  this 
fair,  silent  expanse  of  stainless  white  bent 
the  char,  gray  sky,  now  brightening  iu 
the  east  into  soft,  purple  tints. 


64  TOM    TRACY 

Tom  was  not  exactly  poetical;  yei 
something  in  his  boyish  nature  was 
touched  by  this  scene,  and  his  heart  was 
lighter  and  braver  all  day  for  this  morning 
glance  at  the  Creator's  wonderful  works. 
Nay,  more:  such  pictures  drawn  on  the 
heart  of  the  child  remain  there  oftentimes 
through  all  coming  years;  and,  let  him 
wander  where  he  will,  he  will  be  a  differ- 
ent man  from  what  he  would  have  been 
without  them. 

Whether  he  was  poetical  or  not,  Tom 
was  certainly  practical ;  and  he  had  a  great 
deal  to  do  this  cold  morning.  He  had 
already  built  the  fire,  and  had  come  out 
for  a  pail  of  water.  The  handle  of  the 
chain-pump  made  his  hands  tingle  as  he 
briskly  turned  it  rourd  and  round,  the 
door-latch  froze  to  his  fingers;  and  even 
the  bail  of  the  tea-kettle  gave  them  a  grip 
as  he  took  it  up  from  its  resting-place 


OF    BRIER   HILL.  65 

under  the  sink.  But  Tom  didn't  mind 
these  things.  He  had  made  a  glowing  fire 
in  the  stove,  which  snapped  and  roared  as 
if  it  meant  to  thaw  out  the  whole  town. 

Tom's  mother  heard  it  in  the  bedroom, 
and  sighed  to  think  how  rapidly  her  little 
stock  of  wood  would  melt  away  in  such 
weather;  but  she  couldn't  blame  the  boy. 
No :  she  was  thankful  that  he  could  not 
feel  as  she  did  the  pressure  of  poverty; 
and  she  determined  not  to  throw  a  shadow 
over  his  buoyant  spirit. 

"Mother,  the  room  is  pretty  warm  now," 
Tom  called  out,  cheerily,  as  he  took  the 
milk-pail  on  his  arm,  "  an  I  the  tea-kettle 
is  on,  and  the  potatoes  are  in  the  oven." 
And,  happy  as  a  lark,  he  waded  out  to 
the  barn,  to  see  how  good  old  Brindle  had 
passed  the  night. 

There  the  faithful  creature  stood,  meekly 
chewing  her  cud;  and,  i  she  had  had  a 


66  TOM    TEACY 

pooi  nigat  of  it,  or  had  lain  cold,  she 
made  no  complaint,  but  turned  her  pa- 
tient eyes  towards  Tom,  as  if  very  glad  to 
see  him  He  threw  down  some  hay  be- 
fore her,  and  soon  finished  milking.  This 
same  old  Brindle  was  one  of  the  main  sup- 
ports of  the  family, — tenderly  cherished 
and  beloved.  She  not  only  gave  milk  and 
butter  enough  for  their  own  use,  but  a  good 
deal  more,  which  they  exchanged  for  other 
necessaries.  Tom  always  took  the  best, 
care  of  her,  and  really  loved  the  patient 
animal,  which  he  had  driven  to  the  pas- 
ture and  milked  and  fed  almost  ever  since 
he  could  go  alone. 

The  speckled  rooster  flapped  his  wings 
and  crowed  as  Tom  went  through  the  yard, 
and  every  hen  cackled  a  "  good-moi  rang" 
to  him;  and,  though  there  was  only  a,  little 
corn  left,  Tom  couldn't  help  shelling 
ears  an<7  throwing  it  out  to  them. 


OF    BKIE3,   HILL.  67 

Some  boys — a  great  many,  in  fact — 
would  have  considered  it  quite  a  hardship 
to  go  out  by  sunrise  such  a  cold  morning  ; 
but  we  don't  believe  those  who  dressed 
themselves  in  warm  rooms  and  came 
directly  down  to  breakfast  were  any  hap- 
pier than  Tom;  for  that  frosty  air  was  as 
clear  as  crystal,  and  it  made  the  blood 
flow  quickly  through  his  veins,  till  his 
heart  danced  as  light  as  a  feather  under 
the  blue  frock  which  he  always  wore  when 
about  his  work.  How  warm  the  kitchen 
felt  when  he  went  in,  and  how  cheerful 
and  pleasant  it  looked,  with  the  bright 
morning  sun  streaming  m  at  the  windows ! 
His  mother  was  up  and  dressed,  and  so 
was  little  Mary,  and,  indeed,  breakfast 
was  nearly  ready,  when  Tom  went  whis- 
tling in.  Little  Mary  was  the  delight  of 
Tom's  heart;  and  a  rosier- cheeked,  bluer- 
eyed  little  darling  could  not  have  been 


68  TOM   TRACY 

founc.  the  country  over,  in  palace  or  in 
cottage.  It  vras  such  good  fun  to  play 
with  her  that  Tom  had  forgotten  there 
was  such  a  tiling  as  cold  in  the  world, 
when  his  mother  called  them  to  the -table. 

How  white  and  hot  and  mealy  the 
baked  potatoes  were '  and  what  a  pile  of 
toast  there  was !  To  be  sure,  it  was  of  rye 
and  Indian  bread ;  but  Tom  pronounced  it 
"real  good,"  for  all  that,  and  little  Mary 
clapped  her  hands  when  he  cut  some  of  it 
into  little  morsels  and  put  them  into  her 
rosy  mouth. 

"Somehow,  I  feel  as  if  this  would  be  a 
good  day,  mother,"  said  Tom,  in  the  joy 
of  his  heart.  "I  don't  care  very  much 
now  for  what  Colonel  Blake  thinks  or 
says:  I  know  Miss  Alice  don't  think  I 
took  it;  and  ]  don't  believe  anybody  else 
WL  :  do  you?" 

"I  hope  not.     Still,  it  is  very  strange 


OF    BRIER   E  ILL,  69 

where  the  bill  has  gone;  and  I  should  be 
very  glad  if  it  could  \.<e  found.  I  ex- 
amined every  article  of  your  clothing  last 
night,  to  see  if  it  had  not  slipped  into 
some  seam  or  corner;  but  I  couldn't  find 
it." 

"Well,  mother,  one  thing  I  know:  I 
sha'n't  do  another  errand  for  Colonel  Blake 
very  soon." 

"He  probably  won't  wish  you  to,"  said 
his  mother,  smiling. 

"I'm  glad  I  a'n't  rich,  if  I'd  have  to  be 
as  mean  and  hateful  as  he  is." 

"Now,  Tom,  don't  work  up  another  fit 
of  anger." 

"No:  I  don't  mean  to.  I  am  not  going 
to  be  angry  to-day,  even  once." 

"Don't  be  too  confident.  You  are  very 
apt  to  break  such  strong  resolutions,  you 
know." 

"But  if  I  think  of  Miss  Alice  Ray  I 


70  TOM    TRACY 

guess  it  will  help  me  to  be  good.  Ok, 
mother,  you  can't  think  how  kind  and 
beautiful  she  is!" 

"  I  havo  heard  she  is  very  lovely  and 
very  good;  but  she  is  sick  a  great  deal  of 
the  time,  and  people  are  afraid  she  will 
never  be  well  again." 

"Oh,  mother,  I  don't  believe  that.  I 
don't  think  anybody  so  good  and  beauti- 
ful as  she  is  will  be  always  sick — or — 
or " 

"Die?  Alas!  my  dear,  many  a  one 
just  as  lovely  and  as  much  beloved  as  she 
has  sickened." 

"But  I  don't  think  it  would  be  right  to 
have  her  die:  do  you?" 

"Yes;  if  God  wants  her  in  the  other 
world.  He  loves  her  very  tenderly;  and 
if  he  tikes  her  away  it  will  be  to  make 
her  still  more  good  and  beautiful  in 
heaven,  where  Christ  is,  and  VI  the  holy 


OF    BRIER   HILL.  71 

angels.  You  would  think  it  was  ri^ht  for 
him  to  make  her  as  happy  as  possible: 
wouldn't  you?" 

But  death  seemed  so  sad  and  dreadful 
to  the  warm  heart  of  the  child  that  he 
did  not  like  to  think  of  it;  and,  though 
after  breakfast  his  mother  read  that  beau- 
tiful chapter  in  Revelation  about  the 
streets  of  pure  gold  and  the  gates  of 
pearl,  Tom  could  not  think  of  Miss  Alice 
Ray's  dying,  without  a  heavy  weight  at 
his  heart. 

Then  came  the  prayer;  and  again, 
when  his  mother  besought  God  to  bless 
them  and  be  with  them  that  day,  to  for- 
give their  sins  and  to  give  them  right 
desires  and  help  them  to  prepare  for  a 
happy  life  with  him  in  heaven,  Tom  tried 
to  make  the  words  his  cwn  as  well  as  he 
could,  and  remembered  that  there  was 
One  to  help  him  to  feel  right.  Would 


72  TOM     TRACY 

Jesus  really  come  to  him  and  help  him  to 
do  right?  How  very  wonderful  it  was! 

There  were  many  chores  (as  Tom  called 
them)  to  do  before  school-time : — the  wood- 
box  to  be  filled,  more  water  to  be  brought, 
the  cow  to  be  fed  again,  the  milk  to  be 
thawed  and  carried  to  the  pig,  and  a  path 
to  be  made  through  the  drift  to  the  gate. 
Tom  had  to  be  very  busy;  and  he  had 
scarcely  time  to  think  of  any  thing  till  half- 
past  eight, — when  he  took  off  his  frock, 
washed  his  face  and  hands,  brushed  his 
hair  nicely,  tied  on  a  clean  collar,  and, 
after  giving  Mary  a  good  hug,  set  off  foi 
school  with  his  dinner-pail  in  his  hand. 

Nothing  happened  that  day  on  the  road. 
When  Tom  went  by  Colonel  Blake's  and 
began  to  feel  angry  at  the  thought  of  him, 
he  saw  Miss  Alice's  face  at  the  window,  ana 
knew  by  her  smile  that  she  saw  him  too. 
This  drove  9 11  evil  thoughts  away;  and  as 


OF   BRIER   HII  L. 


73 


he  walked  on  he  thought  of  her,  a^d  of 
how  she  might  be  sick,  and  some  day  go 
away  to  be  with  the  angels, — 1. 11  he  forgot 
himself  and  the  ill  treatment  he  had  re- 
ceived. 


74  TOM   TRACT 


CHAPTER  V. 

SUDDEN    CALAMITY. 

"HURRAH!  hurrah  1"  shouted  the  boy  a 
about  the  school-house.  ' '  Here  comes  Tom 
Tracy!  Now  for  the  snow-balls!"  And  at 
it  they  went,  laughing  and  shouting,  and 
pelting  each  other,  and  dodging  as  well  as 
they  could  the  well-aimed  shots  that  came 
from  every  direction.  'Twas  rare  sport; 
and,  though  the  atmosphere  was  some  de- 
grees below  zero,  not  a  boy  among  them 
but  was  thoroughly  warmed  with  the 
healthful  exeicise  by  the  time  "  the  mas- 
ter" came  in  sight. 

Tom  was  ouite  a  favourite  among  his 
school -fellows,  as  such  widr -awake  boys 


OF    BRIER    HILL.  75 

are  apt  to  be;  but  his  hot,  hasty  temper 
sometimes  involved  him  in  tiouble.  He 
would  get  angry,  and  scold,  and  even 
fight,  and  yet  be  as  friendly  as  ever  in 
half  an  hour.  But  some  of  the  other 
boys  could  not  so  easily  forget  and  "make 
up."  One,  especially, — John  Jackson, — 
was  always  teasing  Tom  and  making  him 
angry;  and  their  numerous  little  quarrels 
had  finally  produced  settled  dislike  on 
both  sides. 

John's  father  kept  a  store,  and  hence  he 
considered  himself  entitled  to  look  down 
on  a  "washerwoman's  son,"  and,  indeed, 
on  all  the  farmer-boys;  and  the  airs  he 
gave  himself  made  him  very  ridiculous. 
John  was  to  be  pitied;  for  he  had  no 
mother  to  teach  him  better.  She  had  died 
before  John  was  old  enough  to  remember 
her;  and  the  housekeeper  found  it  easier 
to  flattrc  him  than  to  correct  his  faults; 


76  TOM    TRACT 

and,  being  a  low,  vulgar  woman,  she  could 
hardly  be  expected  to  teach  him  proper 
behaviour;  and  his  father  was  too  much 
engrossed  in  business  to  give  him  much 
attention. 

Tom's  fist  was  always  ready  for  action; 
and  when  John  began  to  ask  him,  "Where 
did  you  get  such  fancy  slippers?"  or, 
"What  do  you  have  for  carrying  clothes  to 
the  wash-tub?"  and  such  like  low,  coarse 
questions,  he  would  get  angry  in  a  minute, 
and  fly  upon  him.  If  Tom  had  paid  no 
attention  to  these  foolish  questions  and 
showed  that  he  cared  nothing  about  them, 
all  would  have  been  well  enough,  and  John 
would  soon  have  ceased  to  tease  him;  but 
Tom  had  yet  to  acquire  that  truest  and 
noblest  courage  which  can  patiently  bear 
wrong  and  quietly  live  down  an  insult. 
John  was  a  stout,  heavy-moulded  boy, 
two  years  older  than  Tom ;  but  Tom  was 


OF    BEiEE   HILL.  77 

so  rnuch  nimbler  and  more  active  that  he 
often  got  the  better  of  him  in  a  hand-to- 
hand  encounter;  and,  as  the  other  boys  alJ 
stood  ready  to  urge  Tom  on,  and  loudly 
applauded  his  successes,  Tom  had  come  to 
feel  quite  proud  of  his  courage,  and  rathei 
sought  than  avoided  these  foolish  contests. 

For  some  reason,  John  Jackson  was  not 
at  school  this  morning;  but  before  the 
afternoon  session  commenced  he  appeared, 
walking  round  with  his  hands  in  his 
pockets,  in  his  usual  self-conceited  way. 
Tom  had  really  tried  to  be  good  all  day, 
and  had  several  times  thought  of  his  reso- 
lution in  season  to  prevent  himself  from 
going  into  a  passion;  and,  when  he  saw 
John  coming,  he  eaid  to  himself,  "Now,  I 
won't  get  angry,  let  John  be  ever  so  pro- 
voking." But  he  fcrgot  to  ask  foi  help, 
and  his  own  heart  was  weak. 

As  soon  as  John  spied  him,  he  called  out, 

7» 


78  TOM   TRACY 

"  Ha,  Tom  Tracy !  so  you  vt  coine  to 
school  to-day?  /  know  why  you  didn't 
corne  yesterday! — pretty  business  you've 
been  in!" 

"  What  was  it?"  "And  why  didn't  you 
come?"  cried  the  other  boys,  who  had 
supposed  the  storm  had  kept  him  at  home. 

"I  guess  he  won't  tell  you  ;  but  I  will. 
He  stole  a  dollar-bill  from  Colonel  Blake; 
and  that's  why  he  didn't  come." 

"Stole!"  "From  whom?"  "How?"  "I 
don't  believe  it!"  "What  do  you  mean?" 
were  words,  echoed  from  all  sides. 

"Colonel  Blake  &ent  a  bundle  arid  a 
dollar-bill  by  him  to  Parker's  store  yester- 
day morning,  and  ho  pretended  he  lost  the 
bill;  but  Colonel  Blake  says  he  has  no 
doubt  he  kept  it  himself.  So  your  good 
Tom  Tracy  is  a  thief,  you  seel" 

"You  lie!  '  shouted  Tom, — losing  all 
self-control.  "You  lie!  you  lie!"  And, 


OF   BRIER   HILL.  79 

springing  upon  John  fiercely  and  suddenly, 
he  knocked  him  over  backwards.  A  pile 
of  logs  lay  D3ar,  and,  as  John  fell,  hi 
head  struck  one  of  them  so  violently 
thai,,  after  one  scream,  he  lay  perfectly 
senseless.  The  log  was  sharpened  at  the 
end,  and  it  cut  a  deep  gash,  from  which 
the  blood  began  to  flow.  Tom's  anger 
was  cooled  in  a  minute,  and  he  exclaimed, 
"  Oh,  what  have  I  done?"  Everybody  was 
frightened,  and  none  knew  what  to  do. 

"Lift  him  up.  Rub  his  face  with  snow. 
Run  for  the  doctor!"  they  exclaimed;  and 
all  were  greatly  relieved  when  the  master 
came  up. 

Mr.  Carter  could  only  gather  from  their 
excited,  incoherent  explanations  that  Johr. 
was  hurt, — almost  killed ;  and  he  hastened 
to  him.  He  saw  at  once  that  he  had 
fainted,  and  was  probably  badly  injured. 

Telling  the  boys  to  sprinkle  cold  watei 


80  TOM    TRACY 

on  his  face  and  not  move  him,  Mr.  Carter 
stepped  across  to  the  store,  and,  finding 
Mr.  Jackson  there,  told  him  John  had 
been  knocked  down  in  some  quarrel  with 
the  boys,  and  had  struck  his  head  upon  a 
log. 

"Some  one  had  better  go  for  the  doctor 
at  once,"  he  said,  "and  in  the  mean  time 
we  will  bring  him  home." 

A  man  who  had  a  sleigh  at  the  door 
jumped  into  it  and  rode  off  as  fast  as 
he  could,  while  Mr.  Jackson  and  several 
others  went  to  the  school-house.  John 
still  lay  insensible,  his  face  as  pale  as 
death.  His  father  and  Mr.  Garter  lifted 
him  up  carefully  and  carried  him  home, 
the  boys  following  to  the  door, — every 
face  being  blanched  by  fear,  Scarce  a 
word  was  spoken  by  any  one,  till  the  doc- 
tor, who,  as  it  chanced,  was  riding  in  that 
direction,  arrived;  and  in  a  few  minufes 


OF    BRIER    HILL.  81 

Mr.  Carter  came  out  of  the  house.  "We 
had  better  go  back,"  he  said.  "All  will 
be  done  for  John  that  can  be.  Dr.  Wil- 
son, says  he  can't  tell  yet  how  serious 
the  injury  is,  but  that  he  fears  it  is  a 
pretty  bad  one.  He  is  washing  the  blood 
from  the  wound  now.  John  seems  partly 
conscious,  and  moans  a  good  deal,  as  if  in 
great  pain." 

Never  did  a  group  of  sadder  or  more 
anxious  faces  gather  in  a  school-room  than 
now  came  round  their  teacher;  and  Mr. 
Carter  himself  was  pale  and  agitated.  It 
is  not  easy  to  describe  poor  Tom's  state  of 
mind, — the  kind,  tender-hearted  Tom,  who, 
when  he  was  not  angry,  would  never  hurt 
a  chicken  or  a  fly!  But  of  what  avail 
was  his  kind  heart  if  he  could  not  control 
his  temper? 

When  Mr.  Carter  inquired  how  this  had 
happened,  so  many  begar  to  talk  to- 


82  TOM     TEACY 

gether,  and  so  incoherently,  that  he  could 
make  out  little  beyond  the  fact  that  Tom 
knocked  him  down, — and  something  about 
stealing.  Tom  himself  sat  apart,  with  qui- 
vering lip  and  colourless  cheek,  never 
speaking, — indeed,  scarcely  breathing. 

"Sit  down,  all  of  you,"  said  the  teacher, 
"  and  I  will  try  to  find  out  the  truth.  Tom, 
tell  me.  about  it.  How  did  you  come  to 
strike  him?" 

"Oh!  do  you  think  he  will  die?"  cried 
Tom,  with  agonizing  earnestness,  looking 
into  his  teacher's  face  as  if  life  and  death 
hung  on  his  answer.  He  had  overheard 
one  of  the  men  say,  "I  do  believe  he's 
killed  1"  and  that  dreadful  idea  had  taken 
such  possession  of  the  poor  boy's  mind 
that  he  could  think  of  nothing  else. 

"Oh,  I  hope  not:  certairly,  we  can't 
tell  »t  present  much  about  it.  I  am  sure, 


OJ   BB.I4B,   HILL  # 

Tom,  you  never  intended  to  injure  him  so 
•severely  ?" 

'  Oh,  no,  sir,  I  didn't:  I  didn't  mean  to 
hurt  him  1" 

"You  were  angry,  I  suppose,  and  never 
thought  of  consequences?" 

"Yes,  he  was:  John  said  he  was  a 
thief,  and  then  Tom  up  and  knocked  him 
right  down,"  said  Joe  Trask. 

"  Only  one  at  a  time.  Tom,  tell  me  the 
story  yourself." 

And  Tom  told  him  about  Colonel  Blake's 
giving  him  the  bundle  and  the  bill,  and 
how  the  bill  was  lost,  and  what  was  said 
at  Dr.  Wilson's  and  at  the  colonel's  after- 
wards; and  then  how  John  accused  him 
of  stealing.  "I  couldn't  stand  that,  and  I 
struck  him;  but  I  didn't  mean  to  hurt 
him  much.  I  never  stopped  to  think." 

"Never  stopped  to  ih'^ink"  said  Mr. 
Carter.  "That  is  the  cause  of  half  the 


84  TOM    TRACY 

crimes  that  are  committed.  The  mur- 
derer often  commits  his  dreadful  crime  be- 
cause he  is  too  angry  to  stop  and  think." 

Tom  shuddered. 

"You  had  great  provocation  to  anger,  I 
admit;  but  had  you  been  in  the  habit  of 
controlling  your  temper  you  could  not 
have  given  way  to  it  in  this  dreadful 
manner.  For  a  human  being  who  has 
reason  given  him,  to  say,  'I  didn't  think/ 
is  very  absurd:  he  ought  to  think:  there 
is  just  where  the  blame  lies. 

"This  is  a  very  sad  affair  to  all  of  us; 
and  I  hope  every  one  in  school  will  learn 
by  it  that  in  one  moment  of  passion  a 
deed  maybe  committed  for  which  no  after 
penitence  nor  good  conduct  can  atone.  It 
is  fearful  to  think  what  the  consequences 
of  one  rash,  unthinking  act  may  be.  That 
hasty  blow,  given  in  hot  passion,  might 
have  sei*"  your  school-mate  into  eternity 


OF    BKIEB,    HILL.  85 

in  an  insist!  That  it  did  not,  and  that 
there  is  a  possibility  of  his  recovery,  is 
owing  to  God's  great  goodness  rather  than 
to  any  merit  of  your's ;  and  if  this  lesson, 
severe  as  it  is,  should  be  the  means  of 
making  you  thoughtful  and  guarded  in 
future,  it  may  be  the  greatest  blessing  of 
your  life." 

The  silence  which  followed  was  broken 
by  a  soft,  pleading  voice  from .  the  girls' 
Bide: — "  You  won't  punish  Tom?" 

"I  think  his  own  reflections  will  be  a 
sufficient  punishment,"  replied  the  master. 
"I  am  sure  none  of  us  would  like  to  be 
in  his  place." 

Through  all  this  Tom  sat  without  a 
single  tear,  apparently  incapable  of  weep- 
ing. His  Dne  only  thought  was,  "What 
if  John  should  die?  Oh,  what  if  John 
should  die?"  and  the  blood  which  neither 


86  10M   TRACT 

frost  nor  wiiid  nor  snow  could  chill  ran 
cold  through  his  veins. 

There  was  little  study  in  the  school- 
room that  afternoon.  Scarcely  the  forms 
of  recitation  were  observed.  Several 
times  a  scholar  was  sent  to  ascertain  how 
John  was;  and  all  observed  the  eagerness 
with  which  Tom  lifted  his  face  to  catch 
the  answer, — that  white,  still  face,  so 
unlike  his  own  bright,  happy  one. 

Little  could  be  learned.  Dr.  Wilson 
had  proposed  sending  for  another  phy- 
sician from  Centre  ville,  thinking  possibly 
a  surgical  operation  might  be  necessary; 
and  nothing  more  could  be  done  till  he 
came.  John  was  under  the  influence  of  an 
opiate,  lying  perfectly  easy  and  quiet. 

At  recess  Tom  remained  in-doors ;  and 
Mr.  Carter,  seeing  his  great  distress,  tried 
to.  comfort  him  with  hopes  of  John's 
restoration,  TLe  other  boys,  instead  of 


OF    BRIBE   .dILL.  87 

entering  into  any  r.oisy  play,  stood  to- 
gether, telling  in  a  low  voice  all  kinds  of 
stories  about  horrid  accidents  and  dreadful 
deaths;  and  one  of  them  suggested  that, 
if  John  shouldn't  live,  Tom  Tracy  mighl 
perhaps  be  hung!  This  set  them  off  on 
a  new  track  of  horrors,  till  every  eye  was 
expanded  and  every  pulse  quickened. 
At  this  juncture,  the  doctor  was  seen 
coming  out  of  Mr.  Jackson's  and  towards 
the  school-house.  Upon  this,  all  rushed 
in,  exclaiming,  "The  doctor's  coming!  the 
doctor's  coming!" 

Tom's  heart  fairly  stood  still;  for  he 
thought  John  was  certainly  dead.  Mr. 
Carter  put  his  arm  around  him,  and 
whispered  a  kind  word,  as  Dr.  Wilson 
entered.  His  face  at  once  dispelled  Torn'r 
worst  fears ;  for  it  was  quite  cheerful. 


88  TOM    TKACY 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE   SAD   EVENING. 

"You  will  be  glad  to  know,  children, 
that  John  is  sleeping  very  quietly,"  said 
Dr.  Wilson.  ' '  His  pulse  is  quite  good  now, 
and  I  can't  but  hope  the  injury  is  less 
severe  than  I  feared  at  first.  If  he  has  a 
good  night,  and  wakes  up  rational  in  the 
morning,  I  shall  think  he  will  get  along 
in  a  few  days;  but  time  will  show." 

Tom  felt  as  if  a  great  load  were  taken 
from  his  heart;  and,  for  the  first  time,  his 
eyes  grew  moist  with  tears, — tears  of  joy 
and  gratitude. 

"I  was  on  my  way  to  the  post-office," 
continued  Dr.  Wilson  'when  I  was  sent 


OF   BEI5R   HILL.  89 

for  to  see  Jonn,  and  I  intended  to  stop  at 
the  school-house.  I  was  coming  on  a  very 
pleasant  errand, — one  which,  I  am  sure, 
would  have  made  you  all  very  happy. 

"  I  suppose  you  have  heard  about  Tom 
Tracy's  losing  a  dollar-bill;  and  I  was 
coming  to  tell  you  it  had  been  found." 

"Found!"  exclaimed  Tom,  fairly  start- 
ing from  his  seat. 

"Yes, — found  at  my  house  this  forenoon. 
You  know,  Tom,  you  took  it  out  of  your 
purse  there.  Well,  my  wife  looked  every- 
where in  the  room  for  it,  over  and  over, 
and  couldn't  find  it;  but  to-day  she 
opened  the  door  of  a  closet  which  we 
seldom  use,  and  there,  in  one  corner  of 
it,  on  the  floor,  lay  the  bill,  all  safe  and 
sound  !  She  remembered  then  that  when 
Tom  was  there  the  wind  blew  that  door 
open,  and  that  Nancy,  our  girl,  passing 
by,  shut  it  ProVably,  when  Tom  waa 


8« 


90  TOM   TRACT 

putting  tho  change  into  his  purse,  he 
dropped  the  bill,  and  a  gust  of  wind  took 
it  into  the  closet,  which  was  pretty  near 
where  he  stood.  It  was  a  very  windy 
day ;  and  when  our  outside  door  is  opened 
the  wind  comes  in  there  like  a  hurricane; 
and  it  is  not  at  all  strange  that  it  should 
have  blown  the  bill  away.  None  of  us 
thought  to  look  in  the  closet, — for,  as  I 
have  said,  we  seldom  open  that  door ;  but 
this  forenoon,  about  ten  o'clock,  my  wife 
had  occasion  to  go  there  for  something, 
and  I  heard  her  cry  out,  'I've  found  it!' 
I've  found  it !  Here  it  is !  here  is  Tom's 
dollar-bill!'  And,  sure  enough,  there  it 
was!  I  was  greatly  rejoiced;  for  I  knew 
Tom's  mother  would  feel  troubled  about 
it,  and  some  one  had  told  me  that  Colonel 
Blake  was  a  little  suspicious  Tom  had 
kept  it  himself.  I  did  not  think  so  for  a 
moment,  for  I  knev  Tom,  and  knew  he 


OF    BKIEE    HILL.  91 

iiad  always  been  a  truthful,  straight- 
forward b<yy ;  but  he  was  a  stranger  to 
the  colonel  The  first  thing  I  did  was  to 
ride  over  tc  Colonel  Blake's  and  tell  him 
about  it.  He  seemed  pleased,  and  so  did 
the  young  lady  who  is  staying  there. 
She  said,  with  a  very  sweet  smile,  'she 
was  sure  from  the  first  that  boy  was 
honest.' 

"I  was  going  over  to  Brier  Hill  to  see  a 
patient,  and,  as  I  went  right  by  the  door, 
I  thought  I  might  as  well  step  in  and  tell 
Mrs.  Tracy  it  was  found.  She  was  over- 
joyed to  hear  it,  and  said  she  had  hoped 
all  along  it  would  come  out  right  at  last. 
So  here  is  the  bill,  Tom:  I  would  have 
given  it  to  the  colonel,  but  I  thought 
may -be  you  would  like  to  carry  it  your- 
self." 

What  a  variety  of  emotions  swelled 
Tom's  breast  as  he  listened  to  this  state- 


92  TOM    TRACY 

ment!  Oh,  how  very,  very  happy  he 
would  now  have  been,  but  for  the  sad 
events  of  the  afternoon!  How  happy 
his  mother  was  at  home,  all  ignorant  of 
the  dreadful  story  he  had  to  tell !  Could 
he  but  have  undone  that  one  hasty  act, — 
have  blotted  out  of  existence  that  five 
minutes  of  time! 

"I  think  no  one  who  knew  Tom 
doubted  his  honesty,"  said  Mr.  Carter; 
"but  it  gives  us  all  great  pleasure  to 
hear  this  explanation,  and  we  thank  you, 
doctor,  for  coming  to  tell  us.  The  circum- 
stances were  a  little  remarkable ;  but  a 
good  reputation  is  always  of  great  service 
in  such  a  case." 

"Yes,  indeed  it  is,"  replied  the  doctor. 

'Always  speak  the  truth,  boys,  and  be 

honest,  and  you  will  have  the  credit  of 

it.     We  all  know  boys  who  in  like  cir 

cumstances  would  have  been  considered 


OF    BRIER    HILL.  93 

guilty  even  if  they  were  innocent.  Yes, 
honesty  is  not  only  the  best  policy,  but, 
what  is  far  better,  it  is  always  right." 

Dr.  Wilson  paused.  He  was  about 
to  add  something  concerning  anger  and 
want  of  self-control;  but  as  he  looked  at 
Tom's  face,  and  then  at  the  faces  of  the 
other  children,  he  said  to  himself,  "They 
feel  all  this  enough,  without  my  talking 
about  it.  It  won't  do  any  good  for  me  to 
preach  to  them."  So  he  only  said  he  was 
very  sorry  for  the  accident  that  had 
happened,  and  hoped  their  school-mate 
would  be  decidedly  better  in  the  morning. 

Dr.  Wilson  was  right.  The  moral 
power  of  an  event  may  be  greatly  lessened 
by  talking  too  much  about  it.  The  con- 
sciences of  children  are  quick  to  under- 
stand and  apply  a  lesson  like  that  which 
had  been  taught  them  that  afternoon ;  and 
not  one  of  them  would  sver  forget  the 


94  TOM   TRACY 

raise. y  produced   by   one    hasty  act   oi 
passion. 

When  Dr.  Wilson  was  about  to  leave, 
Tom  asked,  in  a  low,  tremulous  voice,  if  he 
might  be  dismissed.  "I  want  to  go  over 
and  see  John,  if  they  will  let  me." 

"Why,  yes;  I  don't  think  it  can  do 
him  any  hurt  to  have  you  go  in  very 
quietly,"  said  the  doctor,  in  reply  to  Mr. 
Carter's  questioning  look.  "I  shouldn't 
like  to  have  the  other  boys  see  him 
just  at  present.  He  must  be  kept  very 
quiet  for  some  time  to  come,  even  at  the 
best." 

It  was  with  a  strange  mixture  of  fear 
and  grief  that  Torn  crossed  the  threshold 
into  that  sick-room,  where  all  was  dark 
and  silent.  There  lay  the  poor  sufferer, 
his  head  swathed  in  wet  bandages,  his 
eyes  closed,  and  his  face  of  a  ghastly  pale- 
ness. No  sound  broke  the  perfect  still- 


OF    BRIER    H3LL.  £f 

iK€s,  save  an  occasional  low  moan,  aa  lie 
moved  a  little  in  the  bed. 

It-was  terrible  for  Tom  to  stand  there, 
looking  on  the  playmate  who  a  few  hours 
ago  had  been  full  of  life  and  health,  now 
so  prostrated,  and  to  think,  "I  did  it!  I 
brought  him  here!"  As  he  listened  to  the 
low,  quick  breathing,  which,  to  his  excited 
imagination,  seemed  now  and  then  to  cease 
entirely,  the  old  fear  that  he  might  die 
came  back,  and  his  heart  grew  sick  with 
terror.  Once  or  twice,  a  woman  who  was 
sitting  in  the  room  came  to  the  bedside, 
looked  at  the  patient,  and  went  away 
again  with  a  noiseless  tread.  Tom  kept 
a  firm  hold  of  the  doctor's  hand,  scarcely 
breathing,  lest  he  should  disturb  the  sleeper. 
Not  a  word  was  spoken  till  the  doctor  led 
him  out  into  the  parlour.  It  was  a  relief 
to  come  again  into  the  light;  but  Tom 


96  TOM    TRACY 

shrank  back  when  Le  saw  Mr.  Jackson  was 
in  the  room. 

Whatever  disposition  to  blame  him  the 
father  might  have  had,  when  he  looked 
on  the  pale,  distressed  face  of  the  child,  he 
could  only  feel  compassion. 

"Poor  boy!"  he  said,  laying  his  hand 
kindly  on  his  head ;  "I  am  sure  you  feel 
as  sorry  as  any  of  us." 

Tom  burst  into  tears ;  for  he  had  expected 
a  harsh  reprimand.  "I  hope  you  will  for- 
give me,  sir,"  he  said,  and  then  added,  very 
softly,  "I  wish  I  could  tell  John  how  sorry 
I  am,  and  ask  his  forgiveness." 

"Yes,  yes;  he  would  forgive  you,  I 
know,"  said  the  father,  touched  by  the 
sorrow  of  the  child. 

"And  I  hope  he  will  be  able  to  tell  you 
BO  himself,  one  of  these  days,"  said  the 
doctor. 

"  You  think,  then,  there  is  a  chance  of 


OF    BRIER    HILL.  97 

bia  being  better  soon?"  asked  Mr.  Jack- 
son. 

"I  don't  like  to  speak  too  confidently 
about  it.  The  brain  maybe  affected;  but. 
if  not,  I  think  he  will  get  over  it, — perhaps 
in  a  very  few  days.  We  can  tell  better 
to-morrow.  Dr.  Sears  has  had  so  much 
more  experience  than  I  in  such  cases  that 
when  he  comes  he  can  judge  more  accu- 
rately what  the  symptoms  indicate.  Any 
way,  Tom,"  he  added,  looking  kindly  down 
at  the  anxious  face,  "keep  up  a  good 
heart.  You  are  no  more  to  blame  than 
boys  have  been  a  thousand  times,  when 
nothing  serious  happened.  It's  always  a 
bad  thing  for  boys  to  quarrel." 

All  the  boys  stood  by  the  gate  to  hear 
Tom's  report,  and,  when  it  was  given,  they 
dispersed  in  different  directions,  only  two 
going  Tom's  way.  These  soon  turned  into 
another  road,  and  lie  went  on  towards 


98  TOM    TKAC7 

home  alone.  It  was  with  a  heavy  heart 
he  trudged  up  the  hill.  Let  others  say 
what  they  might,  he  knew  he  had  been 
guilty  of  a  great  sin.  And  how  sure  he 
had  felt  that  morning  that  he  should 
not  get  angry  all  day  I  He  saw  now  that 
he  could  not  trust  himself,-  -that  at  any 
moment  he  was  liable  to  lose  his  temper, 
and,  in  the  heat  of  passion,  commit  some 
dreadful  crime. 

"No,"  he  said  to  Limself,  sorrowfully, 
"I  shall  never  again  dare  to  say,  'I  will 
not  get  angry;'  for  something  may  make 
me  forget  every  thing,  just  as  I  did  to-day. 
Oh,  what  a  miserable  boy  I  am! — What 
shall  I  do?" 

And  all  the  time  John's  haggard  face 
seemed  to  lie  perpetually  before  him ;  and 
he  kept  thinking,  "Oh,  what  if  he  should 
die?" 

Tom  had  never  before  known  trouble 


OF    BRIER    HILL.  99 

and  sorrow  like  this.  Last  night,  though 
falsely  accused,  his  heart  was  light,  for  he 
was  innocent;  but  now  the  burden  of 
guilt  was  lying  upon  it,  and  "  a  wounded 
spirit  who  can  bear?"  He  passed  Colonel 
Blake's  without  even  thinking  of  the  dollar- 
bill,  or  of  Miss  Alice  Ray,  so  completely 
had  that  sight  of  John's  condition  effaced 
every  thing  else  from  his  mind. 

When  he  reached  home,  his  mother's 
face  lighted  up  with  joy  at  seeing  him; 
but  a  second  look  showed  her  that  some- 
thing was  wrong. 

"What  has  happened?"  she  exclaimed. 
''Are  you  sick?" 

"No,  mother, — only  sick  at  heart.  I 
have  a  sorrowful  story  to  tell  you : — you 
can't  think  what  I  have  done." 

"Oh,  what  is  it,  Tom?  Tell  me,  quick!" 

"  Why,  I  got  angry  this  noon  with  John 
Jackson.  He  said  I  stole  that  money, 


100  TOM    TRACY 

and  called  me  a  tnief ;  and  it  made  me  so 
angry  I  forgot  every  thing,  and  knocked 
him  down,  and  his  head  struck  a  great  log, 
and — perhaps — he  will  die!" 

It  was  indeed  a  sad  story;  and,  after 
hearing  all  the  particulars,  the  mother's 
heart  was  almost  as  sorrowful  as  her 
child's.  Even  little  Mary  saw  that  some- 
thing had  happened,  and  looked  up  with 
a  pitiful  expression  on  her  fair  young  face, 
saying,  "Poor  Tom  I  poor  Toml"  as  if  to 
comfort  him. 

"Oh,  Tom  I ' '  said  his  mother.  ' '  And  I 
had  been  so  happy  all  the  afternoon,  think- 
ing how  glad  you  would  be  to  know  the 
bill  was  found!" 

"Yes:  I  am  glad  of  that, — glad  Colo- 
nel Blake  and  Miss  Alice  know  I  am 
honest.  And,  if  I  had  waited  only  just  a 
few  mil  utes,  John  and  all  of  them  would 


OF    BEIER    HILL.  101 

have  known  I  didr.  't  take  it.   Oh,  if  I  could 
only  have  been  patient  a  little  while!" 

"Yes:  it  is  always  best  to  be  patient, 
and  to  trust  God  to  take  care  of  our  repu 
tation,  when  we  are  unjustly  accused." 

Mrs.  Tracy  might  have  reminded  Tone 
that  she  had  often  told  him  something 
dreadful  would  happen  if  he  did  not  learn 
to  control  his  temper;  but  she  did  not: 
she  only  said, — 

"I  am  very  sorry  this  has  happened. 
I  do  hope  John  will  be  better  in  the  morn- 
ing." But  she  sighed,  and  Tom  knew  she 
was  greatly  distressed.  Oh,  how  much 
trouble  one  thoughtless  act  had  caused ! 

Tom  mechanically  put  on  his  frock, 
brought  in  the  wood  and  water,  and  went 
to  milk  the  cow.  Poor  old  Brindle  looked 
so  peaceful  and  friendly,  he  couldn't  help 
leaning  his  head  against  her  and  crying 

heartily.   Somehow,  he  felt  as  if  the  faith- 
s' 


102  TOM    TRACY 

ful  creature*  understood  about  it,  and  ielt 
sorry  for  him;  and  it  was  really  a  relief 
to  stroke  her  and  look  into  her  honest 
face.  He  felt  as  if  ten  years  had  gone 
since  morning, — as  if  he  was  an  entirely 
different  boy  from  the  Tom  who  milked 
and  fed  her  then,  whistling  so  merrily  all 
the  time.  Should  he  ever  feel  light- 
hearted  again? — ever  have  that  terrible 
weight  removed  from  his  heart  ? 

The  evening  meal  was  taken  almost  in 
silence,  and  Tom  went  to  bed  very  early. 
He  could  not  talk, — even  to  his  mother. 
How  different  were  his  feelings  from  those 
of  the  night  before,  when  he  lay  there  so 
warm  and  happy!  then  no  burden  of 
guilt  hung  heavy  on  his  soul. 

He  did  not  go  to  sleep,  but  lay  there 
thinking,  and  sad,  sorrowful  thoughts 
they  were.  Again  came  the  feeling  of 
helplessness  and  self-distrust.  How  was 


OF    BRIER    HILL.  103 

he  ever  to  become  any  better?  He  had 
tried  that  day  to  do  right,  as  well  as  he 
ki.ew  how ;  and  what  a  miserable  failure  it 
had  been!  and  why  could  he  expect  it 
would  be  any  better  another  day? 

Tom  was  naturally  sanguine  and  self- 
relying,  and  perhaps  nothing  less  start- 
ling than  the  events  .of  that  day  would 
have  effectually  taught  him  his  own  weak 
ness,  It  was  knowledge  of  himself  dearly 
bought ;  but  as  in  the  valley  of  humilia- 
tion, though  the  descent  into  it  was  very 
painful,  Christian  found  sweet  flowers 
growing,  so  now,  when  Tom's  heart  was 
really  humbled  by  a  consciousness  of  its 
weakness,  there  came  to  him  a  very  sweet 
and  comforting  thought, — the  thought  of 
a  HELPER.  He  needed  help,  and  Jesus 
Christ  could  help  him:  He  could  do  for 
him  just  what  he  could  not  do  for  himself 
Tom  knew  that  he  needed  noi  only  for- 


104 

give  ness  for  the  sins  lie  had  aln/ady  com- 
mitted, but  to  be  kept  from  sinning  in 
future,  He  wanted  a  new  disposition, — in 
other  words,  a  new  heart, — not,  like  the  old 
one,  full  of  anger  and  revenge  and  evil 
passions,  but  a  heart  filled  with  love  and 
gentleness, — a  heart  in  which  Christ's 
spirit  might  dwell;  and  he  wished  that 
Christ  would  give  him  such  a  one.  He 
did  not  put  his  wishes  into  connected 
words  of  prayer,  exactly,  but  they  went 
upward  in  sincerity  from  his  inmost  heart. 
And  when  did  Jesus  ever  turn  a  deaf 
ear  to  such  a  supplication?  When  did  he 
ever  fail  to  draw  neai  and  to  bless  the  soul 
that  called  to  him  in  its  sore  need  ?  He 
who  came  to  save  his  people  from  theii 
sins — the  Lamb  of  God  that  taketh  away 
the  sin  of  the  world — will  always  draw 
uear  to  the  soul  that  seeks  him,  will 
pardon  its  sins  and  whisper  peace.  It  is 


OF    BKI33   HILL.  10O 


not  to  men  and  women  only  that  he  says, 
"Ask,  and  ye  shall  receive;  seek,  and  ye 
shall  find;"  but  the  youngest  child  who 
knows  what  it  is  to  mourn  for  having  done 
wrong  can  also  seek  pardon  and  find  it, 
ask  hi  help  and  receive  it. 

It  is  a  blessed  thing  when  the  child 
whose  tender  spirit  is  just  beginning  to 
feel  remorse  and  a  need  of  forgiveness  is 
pointed  to  the  loving  Saviour,  and  taught 
to  tell  him  all  his  sorrows  and  sins,  all 
his  wants  and  weaknesses,  —  thus  learning, 
before  his  heart  is  hardened  into  unbelief, 
the  joy  of  loving  and  trusting  in  Jesus  ; 
and  He  who  on  earth  so  loved  little  chil- 
dren will  surely  now  also  lay  his  hands 
upon  them  and  bless  them.  The  tender 
Shepherd  of  souls  will  lovingly  fold  these 
lambs  to  his  bosom,  and  be  their  guide 
and  protector  both  in  this  life  and  in  that 
which  is  to  come. 


106  TOM   TRACY 

As  he  thought  of  the  love  of  Jesua 
Christ,  and  sought  his  forgiveness  and 
aid,  Tom's  troubled  spirit  found  rest, — 
the  rest  and  peace  which  forgiveness  alone 
can  give.  He  knew  he  had  done  wrong, 
and  must  bear  the  punishment  of  seeing 
John  suffer,  and  possibly  die,  in  conse- 
quence; "but  the  fearful  looking-for"  of 
judgment  to  come  no  longer  weighed  upon 
him,  and  he  fell  asleep,  resolved  to  bear 
meekly  whatever  punishment  might  follow, 
and  hoping  he  might  be  kept  from  ever 
sinning  so  again. 

Mrs.  Tracy  sat  in  sorrow  and  sadness 
by  her  lonely  fire  that  night.  This  was 
real  trouble, — to  know  that  her  son  had 
been  the  means,  the  guilty  means,  of 
causing  so  much  suffering.  It  grieved  her, 
too,  that  he  should  go  away  before  prayers ; 
and,  as  she  knelt  down  alone,  she  poured 
out  her  wli  Die  soul  in  supplication  for  him 


OF   BRIER   HILL. 


107 


and  for  the  child  lying  so  dangerously  ill. 
Earnest  prayer  has  gone  up  from  many  a 
lonely  widow's  heart;  but  seldom  did  one 
ever  call  more  earnestly  on  God  than  she 
who  now  pleaded  for  the  life  of  the  one 
child  and  the  forgiveness  and  true  con« 
version  of  the  other. 


TOM    TEACY 


CHAPTER  VH. 

THE   INTEBVIEW. 

TOM  awoke  with  a  confused  idea  that 
something  dreadful  had  happened;  and, 
when  he  remembered  what  it  was,  a  sharp 
pain  pierced  his  heart.  He  had  done  a 
deed  which  could  never  be  recalled,  whose 
consequences  were  entirely  out  of  his  con- 
trol. A  deep  groan  escaped  him: — "Oh, 
if  I  could  only  undo  what  I  did  yester- 
day!"— that  vain  wish  so  often  uttered  I 
But  with  these  sorrowful  thoughts  came 
the  thought,  too,  of  Jesus  as  a  Friend  who 
loved  him,  a  Saviour  who  could  forgive 
him,  a  Helper  who  could  enable  him  to 
overcome  his  evil  habits. 


OF    BEIER   HILL.  109 

Tom  had  always  repeated  a  form  of 
prayer ;  but  he  often  hurried  it  over  with- 
out thinking  much  of  what  the  words 
meant;  but  this  morning  real  prayer  went 
up  from  his  heart.  It  was  a  child's  prayer, 
short,  simple  and  reconnected,  but  still 
real  prayer ;  for  he  felt  that  the  Being  he 
addressed  was  listening  to  him  and  could 
answer  him,  and  he  asked  for  what  he 
earnestly  desired.  He  prayed  very  fer- 
vently that  John  might  recover,  that  his 
own  sins  might  be  forgiven  and  his  heart 
made  kind  and  gentle. 

It  was  with  a  subdued  spirit  Tom  went 
about  his  morning's  work :  all  the  spark- 
ling life  and  joy  which  had  bubbled  up 
in  his  heart  yesterday  was  gone,  and  a 
great  weight  had  come  instead. 

At  breakfast  he  talked  with  his  mother 
about  his  quarrel  with  John,  and  she  was 
very  glal  to  find  that  he  was  not  inclined 

10 


110  ?OM    TRACY 

to  throw  blame  on  others,  or  to  justiiy 
himself.  Sometimes  a  boy  who  has  done 
wrong  will  persist  in  defending  it,  and  in 
denying  that  he  has  been  in  the  least  to 
blame.  This  is  always  a  dark  sign;  for 
there  can  be  no  genuine  penitence  where 
there  is  not  first  a  conviction  of  sin ;  but 
quick  as  Tom  often  was  to  do  a  wrong 
action,  when  he  came  to  think  of  it  in  a 
cool  moment  he  seldom  justified  himself, 
and  therefore  his  mother  had  always  felt 
hopeful  about  him  and  trusted  he  would 
correct  his  faults ;  and  she  knew  if  he  was 
truly  penitent  now  (as  he  seemed  to  be) 
the  fruit  would  appear  in  his  future  con- 
duct. 

It  was  Saturday,  and  there  was  no  school. 
Tom  was  very  anxious  to  hear  from  John, 
and  concluded  to  go  over  and  inquire  as 
SOOP  as  he  had  finished  his  work;  and  hia 
mother  told  him  he  had  better  stop  at 


OF    BRIER    HILL,  111 

Colonel  Blake's  and  give  him  his  money. 
Tom  disliked  to  meet  Colonel  Blake  again ; 
and  most  fervencly  did  he  hope  Miss  Alice 
might  be  in  the  room  when  he  should  go 
there. 

He  went  first  to  Mr.  Jackson's.  Dr. 
Wilson  was  tying  his  horse  just  as  he 
reached  the  gate;  so  they  went  into  the 
house  together.  Mr.  Jackson  said  John 
was  sleeping  this  morning;  he  had  had  a 
very  quiet  night,  and  seemed  very  much 
as  he  did  th&  day  before.  Dr.  Sears  ex- 
pressed the  opinion  that  he  would  finally 
recover,  but  that  he  might  be  confined 
several  weeks.  Tom  just  looked  in  at 
the  door,  and  saw  his  face  on  the  pillow, 
looking,  if  possible,  more  pale  and  death- 
like than  before ;  but  Dr.  Wilson  told  him 
that  pallid  lock  was  partly  the  effect  of 
the  opiatBS  he  had  taken. 

An  aunt  had  come  to  nurse  him,  and 


112  TOM    TEACY 

the  physicians  had  enjoined  perfect  quiet, 
and  said  that  even  life  itself  might  depend 
upon  it. 

Mr.  Jackson  spoke  very  kindly  to  Tom ; 
BO  did  the  doctor;  and  the  aunt,  hearing 
that  he  was  the  boy  who  had  struck  him, 
came  and  spoke  to  him  very  kindly  also ; 
and,  could  he  only  have  seen  John  well 
again,  he  would  have  been  very  happy. 
He  thought,  as  he  stood  looking  at  him, 
that  he  would  gladly  bear  the  sickness  for 
John  if  he  could;  for  Tom  had  a  generous, 
warm  heart  as  well  as  a  violent  temper. 
When  he  came  away,  he  felt  almost  sure 
that  he  never  should  be  so  angry  again; 
and  this  time  he  sent  up  a  silont  prayer 
for  help  to  keep  his  resolution. 

It  was  with  a  very  uncomfortable  feel- 
ing Tom  pulled  the  bell  at  Colonel  Blake's 
door.  Once  he  might  have  been  proud  to 
have  marched  in,  carrying  the  bill,  and 


OF    BRIER    HILL.  113 

saying,  "  You  see,  sir,  I  was  not  a  thief;" 
but  the  eight  of  John  on  that  sick-bed 
had  made  Tom's  heart  more  humble  and 
sad  than  it  us  3d  to  be. 

He  was  again  taken  into  the  parlour, 
where  Colonel  Blake  was  sitting  reading 
the  newspaper.  Tom's  eye  glanced  wish- 
fully around  the  room,  but  no  Miss  Alice 
was  there. 

Taking  out  the  bill,  Tom  went  up  to 
Colonel  Blake.  "  I  have  brought  back 
your  bill,  sir,"  he  said.  "Dr.  Wilson 
found  it  at  his  house  yesterday." 

"Yes;  Dr.  Wilson  told  me  of  the  cir- 
cumstances. I  was  rejoiced  to  find  that  you 
were  in  no  wise  improperly  implicated,  and 
am  sorry  I  accused  you  wrongfully." 

Colonel  Blake  was  far  from  being  in 
all  respects  a  bad  man.  Cold,  haughty 
and  suspicious  he  certainly  was,  but  no 
man  felt  a  more  genuine  respect  for  integr 


10* 


114  TOM   TPAOY 

rity  when  it  was  found  than  he,  slow  as 
he  was  to  recognise  its  existence.  His  ex- 
perience of  human  nature  had  been  unfor 
tunate,  and,  having  heen  repeatedly  de- 
ceived and  defrauded  by  his  associates,  ha 
had  come  to  the  conclusion  that  most  men 
were  hypocrites  and  cheats,  and  that  he 
would  have  as  little  to  do  with  them  ae 
possible,  never  trusting  a  stranger.  Yet 
he  felt  glad  in  his  secret  soul  that  the 
bright-eyed  young  fellow  before  him  had 
not  already  commenced  a  course  of  decep- 
tion. "I  dare  say  he  will,"  was  his  in- 
ward reflection;  "but  as  yet  I  do  really 
believe  he  is  honest  and  tells  the  truth." 

"Your  name  is  Tom,  I  think?"  he  said, 
"looking  over  his  spectacles  at  him. 

"Yes,  sir;  Thomas  Tracy." 

"And  your  mother  is  a  widow?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  Have  you  brothers  and  sisters?" 


CF    BRIER    HILL.  115 

"One  sister,  whose  name  is  Mary." 

"  I  promised  you  a  shilling;  but,  as  there 
was  some  little  trouble  about  it,  I  will  give 
you  two.  I  hope  you  won't  spend  them 
foolishly." 

Tom's  face  grew  very  red:  he  couldn't 
have  told  why:  but  he  did  not  want  to 
take  money  from  a  man  who  had  accused 
him  of  stealing,  and  he  said,  hesitatingly, — 

"  I — I-  -would  rather  take  only  the  shil- 
ling, if  you  please,  sir:  I  earned  that.1' 

Colonel  Blake  looked  at  him  with  sur- 
prise. "Just  as  you  please,"  he  replied, 
stiffly;  "but  I  think  you  are  very  foolish." 

Tom  took  the  shilling,  bade  him  good- 
morning,  and  went  out.  He  didn't  ex- 
actly know  whether  he  had  done  right  01 
wrong  in  refusing  the  money,  when  ais 
mother  needed  money  so  much;  but  he 
had  done  what  was  agreeable  to  his  feel- 
ings. He  did  not  like  Colonel  Blake; 


116  TOM   TRACY 

he  did  not  want  to  take  any  favours  from 
him,  or  have  any  thing  to  do  with  him; 
and,  in  the  pride  of  his  boyish  heart,  he 
shut  the  outside  door  with  a  very  deter- 
mined spirit.  Before  he  had  reached  the 
gate,  the  servant-girl  called  to  him. 

"Miss  Ray  wants  you  to  come  back: 
she  would  like  to  speak  with  you." 

On  entering  the  hall  again,  Tom  was 
surprised  at  being  taken  up-stairs,  instead 
of  into  the  parlour.  He  followed  the  ser- 
vant through  a  large  upper  hall,  where  she 
tapped  lightly  at  one  of  the  doors.  Miss 
Alice  said,  "Come  in."  And,  going  ia, 
Tom  saw  her  lying  on  the  lounge,  sup- 
ported by  cushions ,  with  shawls  wrapped 
aiound  her.  Her  eye  brightened  when 
she  saw  him 

"I  am  very  glad  to  see  you,  Tom,"  she 
said,  holding  Dut  her  thin,  white  hand. 

Somehow,  jus1'  then,  what  his  mother 


OF    BRIER   HILL.  117 

had  said  & oout  her  dying  came  into  Tom's 
mind,  and  he  burst  into  tears. 

"Why,  what  is  the  matter,  my  poor 
child?"  she  said,  drawing  him  to  her,  ic 
her  sweet,  winning  way,  just  as  she  had 
done  once  before.  "  Can't  you  tell  me 
what  troubles  you?" 

"Oh,  a  great  many  things  trouble  me," 
said  Tom,  trying  to  suppress  the  tears. 

"  I  thought  you  would  be  very  happy 
now  the  bill  you  lost  is  found." 

"Yes;  I  was, — or  should  have  been,  if 
it  hadn't  been  for  John." 

"Why,  what  has  happened  to  John?" 
said  Miss  Alice,  kindly,  supposing  he  was 
a  brother. 

"Why,  don't  you  know  how  I  pushed 
John  Jackson  down  when  I  was  angry,  and 
almost  killed  him?"  To  Tomtit  seemed 
incredible  that  anybody  should  be  igno- 
rant of  that. 


118  TOM   TRACY 

Miss  Alice  told  him  she  had  not  been 
out  of  her  room  since  the  day  she  saw 
him,  and  knew  nothing  of  what  had  been 
done  abroad.  "  But  you  must  tell  me 
about  it,"  she  said. 

So  Tom  began  and  told  her,  as  well  as 
he  could,  all  the  circumstances;  and  he 
told  her  more  about  his  own  feelings  than 
he  had  ever  told  even  his  mother;  for, 
somehow,  he  couldn't  help  telling  Miss 
Alice  every  thing,  and  feeling  sure  she 
would  perfectly  understand  him. 

Miss  Alice  had  a  peculiar  faculty  of 
winning  the  hearts  of  children:  they  all 
oved  her,  and,  somehow,  couldn't  help  tell- 
ing her  every  thing,  any  more  than  Tom 
could.  She  was  very  much  interested  in 
this  little  history,  and  read  Tom's  character 
in  it  very  -clearly. 

"Yes,  Tom,  you  were  very  much  to 
blame  for  allc  wing  yourself  to  be  so  angry; 


OF    BRIER   HILL.  119 

and  John  was  very  much  to  blame  also. 
You  had  great  provocation  to  anger. ' '  And 
she  sighed  to  think  how  her  uncle's  unjust 
suspicions  had  perhaps  been  the  cause  of 
this  quarrel.  "  But  because  he  was  insult- 
ing it  does  not  justify  your  retaliating. 
You  know  we  are  commanded  to  forgive 
those  who  injure  us,  and  do  them  good 
and  not  evil.  How  happy  we  should  all 
be  if  we  obeyed  this  command  1" 

"But  I  can't  forgive  the  boys  who  pro- 
voke me,  and  be  gentle  and  kind  to  them. 
I  can't  help  getting  angry  before  I  think. 
Oh,  if  I  could  only  think  ! — and  I  do  mean 
to  try  now,  and  never  get  so  angry  again." 

"That  is  right,  my  dear  child,"  said 
Miss  Alice,  tenderly:  "we  all  have  agrea.t 
deal  of  evil  to  contend  with  and  overcome, 
and  we  are  all  very  apt  not  to  think  till  it 
is  too  late.  But  if  we  are  really  sorry 
when  we  have  done  wrong,  and  really  wish 


120  TOM   TEACY 

to  do  right  in  future,  God  will  forgive  us 
and  help  us  to  overcome  our  evil  habits," 

"  So  mother  told  me,"  said  Tom. 

"And  you  knew,  too,  how  it  is  that 
God  can  forgive  us;  for  he  so  loved  the 
world  that  he  sent  his  only  begotten  Son 
to  die  for  sinners ;  and  there  is  now  no  con- 
demnation to  them  that  are  in  Christ 
Jesus. 

"  Now,  if  he  wished  to  save  us  from 
doing  wrong,  enough  to  suffer  death  for 
us,  he  certainly  is  pleased  when  he  sees  us 
trying  to  do  right,  and  is  very  willing  to 
help  us.  The  Bible  says  a  great  deal 
about  this,  Tom.  It  calls  Christ '  the  Friend 
of  sinners,' — '  the  Lamb  of  God  who  taketh 
away  the  sin  of  the  world,' — and  says, 
'  He  is  more  willing  to  give  the  Holy  Spirit 
to  them  who  ask  him,  than  earthly  parents 
ire  to  give  good  gifts  to  their  children;' 
and  we  should  believe  it.  He  is  our 


OF   BEIER   HILL.  121 

Friend;  He  does  wish  to  save  us  from 
our  sins,  and  to  help  us  to  do  right.  We 
all  of  us  do  wrong,  just  as  you  have  iD 
this  case ;  but  we  must  not  then  turn  away 
from  him.  No,  indeed :  we  must  then  go  tc 
him,  as  to  our  very  kindest  and  best  friend, 
and  tell  him  just  how  bad  we  are  and  how 
much  we  need  his  help  and  his  forgiveness. 
He  "will  listen  to  us;  for  he  is  always  near 
us  and  always  loves  us." 

There  was  silence  for  a  few  minutes, 
which  Tom  broke  by  saying,  in  a  low 
voice, — 

"It  seems  strange  to  think  he  always 
sees  me.  It  makes  me  afraid  to  think  God 
is  always  close  to  me!" 

"Afraid  of  Him  who  has  given  you 
every  blessing  you  have,  and  who  loved 
you  so  well  as  to  die  for  you?  You  need 
not  be  afraid  of  him:  he  is  your  best 
friend.  What  you  should  be  afraid  of  is 


122  TOM 

disobeying  him, — doing  what  he  has  for- 
bidden,— in  other  words,  sinning :  thia  is 
what  displeases  and  grieves  him." 

After  another  little  silence,  Tom  said, 
earnestly, — 

"Do  you  suppose  he  could  help  me  to 
think  f  This  is  what  I  want  most  of  all, 
— somebody  to  help  me  to  think  quick,  be- 
fore I  fly  into  a  passion." 

"Yes;  I  am  sure  that  is  just  what  he 
can  do  for  you.  When  you  are  tempted 
to  do  wrong,  he  can  cause  a  voice  to 
whisper  in  your  heart, — perhaps  very 
softly,  but  so  that  you  will  hear  it  distinctly, 
— 'Don't  do  thit:  it  is  wrong:  don't  do 
it!"  and,  if  you  will  heed  that  voice,  it 
will  always  warn  you  of  evil,  and  draw 
you  towards  what  is  right.  That  voice  is 
God's  voice :  it  speaks  in  every  human 
soul ;  and  it  is  because  we  neglect  to  follow 
its  counsels  and  warnings  that  we  are  left, 


OF    BRIER    HILL.  123 

tc  make  our  way  dcwn  to  ruin  My  dear 
child,  listen  to  this  voice;  do  not  resist 
its  pleadings;  for  if  you  are  forsaken  by 
God's  holy  and  guiding  Spirit  you  will  be 
indeed  lost!" 

Miss  Alice  spoke  with  great  earnestness, 
and  her  eyes  filled  with  tears. 

"Do  not  fear,"  she  continued,  "  that  your 
heavenly  Friend  cannot  do  for  you  all  you 
need.  Thousands  have  been  helped  by 
him  to  subdue  their  evil  habits,  and  to 
form  a  character  very  different  from  what 
they  once  had.  It  is  his  great  work  in 
the  world  to  help  us  to  become  holy  and 
Christ-like. 

"I  have  a  brother,  Tom, — one  whom  1 
love  very  dearly, — who  has  been  thus 
changed.  When  he  was  a  boy,  he  had,  like 
you,  a  very  ungovernable,  fiery  temper; 
and,  though  he-  was  very  generous  and 
warm-hearted,  h  3  was  always  doing  wrong 


124  TOM    TR4.CY 

things  and  making  his  friends  unhappy; 
for  in  his  fits  of  anger  he  would  forget 
every  thing  else.  He  once  killed  a  beau- 
tiful little  dog  we  had,  which  he  loved 
dearly,  because  he  got  angry  with  it." 

"Why,  how  did  he  do  it?" 

"Trip — that  was  the  dog's  name,  and 
a  beautiful  little  black-and-white  dog  he 
was — used  to  go  everywhere  with  Waiter. 
One  day  several  of  the  boys  went  chest- 
nutting.  Of  course,  Trip  went  with  them, 
in  great  spirits,  scampering  along  before 
them,  barking  and  frolicking.  On  their 
way,  Walter  began  to  boast  of  Trip's  skill 
in  treeing  squirrels,  and  (as  boys  are  apt 
to  do)  made  some  very  extravagant  asser- 
tions, which  the  other  boys  laughed  at:  so 
that  when  a  squirrel  was  seen  running 
along  the  fence,  he  naturally  wanted  to 
show  him  off. 

"Trip  started  eagerly  at  his  bi.lding; 


OF    BRIER    HILL.  125 

but,  for  fiome  reason,  instead  of  continuing 
the  pursuit  with  his  usual  zeal,  he  stopped 
and  turned  back, — at  which  the  boys  set 
up  a  shout  of  derision.  This  vexed  Wal- 
ter. He  tried  again  to  set  Trip  on;  but 
he  only  planted  himself  quietly  on  his 
hind-legs,  as  if  nothing  was  expected  of 
him.  'Ho!  that's  your  famous  squirrel- 
hunter,  is  it? — How  keen  he  is! — A  great 
dog  that!'  cried  the  boys,  laughing.  Walter 
could  not  bear  these  taunts;  and,  after 
calling  once  more  on  Trip,  who  never 
stirred,  he  caught  up  a  stone  and  threw  ifc 
at  the  poor  little  creature  so  furiously  that 
it  nearly  killed  him." 

"Oh,  that  was  too  bad!"  exclaimed 
Tom.  "  But  why  didn't  Trip  chase  him?" 

"I  don't  know:  no  one  could  tell.  I 
can  remember  it  as  if  it  were  but  yester- 
day,— though  I  was  very  young  then  ;  for 

Waiter  was  some  years  oMer  than  I, — how 
i* 


126  TOM    TRACY 

he  brought  the  poor  little  dog  home  in  hia 
arms,  moaning  sadly,  and  how  my  father, 
on  examining  his  head,  which  was  shock- 
ingly mangled,  ordered  him  to  be  killed 
to  put  him  out  of  misery.  We  mourned 
bitterly  for  poor  little  Trip,  who  was  a, 
great  favourite  with  us  all.  He  was  laid 
in  a  box  and  buried  under  an  apple-tree  in 
the  orchard;  and  many  a  time  have  I  seen 
Walter  sitting  by  that  spot,  crying  as  if 
his  heart  would  break.  But  tears  could 
not  biing  Trip  back  to  life;  nor  did  they 
make  Walter's  heart  any  better;  for,  not 
many  months  after,  in  another  fit  of  anger, 
he  pushed  his  little  sister  down  the  front- 
dooi  steps.  The  fall  broke  her  arm,  and 
every  one  said  it  might  have  killed  her,  and 
would  if  her  head  had  struck  the  stones. 
How  Walter  grieved  over  that,  when  he 
saw  her  suffering  1  foi  he  loved  little  Emma 
with  a1!  his  heart,  and  nothing  would 


OF   BRIBE  HILL.  127 

have  induced  him  to  injure  her  if  he  had 
not  been  crazed  with  passion.  Father  used 
sometimes  to  punish  him,  and  sometimes  to 
reason  with  him;  and  I  have  many  a  time 
seen  him  walk  the  floor  in  agony,  saying, 
'What  will  become  of  that  boy? — what 
can  I  do  with  him?'  Walter  was  always 
sorry  after  these  outbursts,  and  would  re- 
solve to  do  better;  but  when  temptation 
v',ame  he  yielded  to  it,  and,  indeed,  seemed 
wholly  unable  to  govern  himself.  Such 
was  my  brother  Walter  at  fourteen.  Now 
he  is  one  of  the  most  gentle  and  con- 
siderate of  men.  No  one  now  would  sup- 
pose he  ever  could  have  been  such  a 
violent-tempered  boy.  And  he  would  tell 
you  the  change  is  all  owing  to  his  having 
become  a  true  disciple  of  the  meek  and 
lowly  Jesus.  He  had  many  severe  con- 
flicts with  his  besetting  sin,  and  I  believe 
nothing  but  divine  assistance  could  have 


128  TOM   TRACY 

enabled  him  to  overcome  it.  I  have  c  ft  en 
heard  him  thank  God  for  saving  him  froir. 
the  miserable  end  he  should  have  reached 
if  left  to  himself.  Yes ;  you  need  not  fear 
Christ's  willingness  and  ability  to  do  for 
you  all  you  need;  but,  at  the  sams  time, 
you  must  yourself  make  every  possible 
effort  to  overcome  your  faults.  It  is  only 
to  those  who  try  to  help  themselves  that 
help  from  on  high  is  promised.  No  one 
who  folds  his  hands  in  indolence  can  expect 
the  work  to  be  done  for  him.  You,  Tom, 
are  not  wanting  in  courage,  and  you  are 
not  afraid  of  hard  work.  Be  courageous, 
then,  in  resisting  temptation.  Work  hard 
to  subdue  your  evil  passions.  Bring  all 
your  strength  to  bear  in  these  things,  and, 
with  the  help  which  will  be  given  you  if 
you  seek  it,  you  will  certainly  come  off 
conqueror.  Did  you  ever  read  Pilgrim's 
Progress  ?" 


OF    BBIEE    HILL.  129 

Tom's  eyes  sparkled  at  this  question. 
"  Oil,  yes,"  he  said, — "  a  great  many  times. 
I  like  it  so  much !  I  like  to  read  about  his 
fighting  Apollyon,  and  about  Mr.  Great- 
heart.  Oh,  wasn't  he  a  noble  fellow?" 

"Yes,  indeed;  and  every  follower  ot 
Christ,  old  or  young,  goes  on  a  pilgrimage, 
and  has  to  fight  Apollyon,  and  pass  by 
lions,  and  climb  the  Hill  Difficulty, — only 
his  Apollyons  and  lions  are  in  his  own 
breast:  they  are  his  evil  passions.  Your 
Apollyon  is  probably  that  hot  temper  of 
your's;  and  you  will  be  obliged  to  have 
many  and  many  a  battle  with  it.  I  hope 
you  will  be  like  Great-heart,  and  fight 
valiantly." 

Tom's  face  lighted  up.  He  thought  he 
ehould  like  to  run  a  sword  right  through 
Apollyon  that  minute. 

Miss  Alice  soiled  as  she  saw  the  ex- 
pi^ssior  on  his  face  and  said,  kindly, — 


130  TOM    1  fcACY 

"  I  wanted  to  see  you  to-day,  Tom,  De- 
cause  I  am  going  away  very  soon.  My 
home  is  in  New  York ;  and,  as  soon  as  the 
weather  is  a  little  milder  and  I  am  a  little 
stronger,  I  shall  go  there.  It  is  too  cold 
for  me  here  in  winter." 

"But  won't  you  come  back?"  asked 
Tom,  anxiously. 

"I  shall,  if  I  am  able  to,  in  the  spring. 
The  air  of  the  hills  does  me  a  great  deal 
of  good  in  summer,  and  my  Uncle  and  aunt 
like  to  have  me  with  them  whenever  1 
can  be.  Indeed,  I  consider  this  one  of  my 
homes." 

"Is  Colonel  Blake  your  uncle?" 

"  Yes ;  that  is,  he  married  my  aunt, — my 
own  mother's  sister;  and,  as  ray  mothei 
died  when  I  was  a  little  girl,  ste  seema 
very  near  to  me.  I  have  ne^ei  stayed  into 
the  winter  before,  and  I  find  it  rather  too 
cold  for  me," 


OF    BRIER   HILL.  131 

"Are  you  s^ck,  Miss  Alice?"  asked  Tom, 
bluntly. 

"I  am  not  strong,  and  have  a  bal  cough 
at  times;  but  I  am  usually  well  enough 
to  go  down-stairs  and  to  ride  out  in  plea- 
sant weather." 

"Oh,  I  am  so  sorry  you  are  going  away  1" 
It  was  all  Tom  could  say ;  but  it  did  not 
at  all  express  the  feeling  of  his  heart, — a 
feeling  made  up  of  gratitude,  admiration 
and  sorrow. 

"I  am  sorry  I  have  never  known  you 
before,  Tom.  I  am  sure  we  should  have 
been  friends  a  great  while  ago,  if  we  had 
met.  If  I  were  well  enough,  I  would  ride 
over  and  see  your  mother.  I  should  like 
very  much  to  know  hei." 

"Oh,  you  would  ^ke  my  mother.  Every- 
body does.  She  isr.'t  a  bit  like  me.  She 
is  always  good.  And  little  Mary, — oh.  I 
do  wish  you  could  see  little  M.xry!" 


132  TOM    TEACY 

"  Some  time  I  must  see  them  both.  If 
I  come  to  Rockfield  next  summer,  I  shall 
certainly  go  to  Brier  Hill.  I  have  been 
there  when  I  was  out  riding,  and  have 
noticed  the  house  in  which  you  live.  Last 
summer  you  had  some  flowers  by  the  door." 

"  Oh,  yes, — lots  of  'em, — pinks,  and 
sweet-williams,  and  balsams,  and  four- 
o'clocks,  and  ever  so  many  more.  I  helped 
weed  'em." 

"You  like  flowers,  then?" 

"Pretty  well;  but  then  I  weed  'em  io 
help  mother.  She  didn't  get  much  time 
to  work  ir,  the  flower-bed." 

"  I  hope  you  will  always  try  to  help 
your  mother  as  much  as  you  can.  Mr. 
Barker  told  me  you  were  a  good  boy  to 
toar  mother ;  and  I  was  very  glad  to  hear 
that,  Tom.  To  be  honest  and  good  to  hia 
moth-si  are  two  tilings  very  much  to  a 
boy's  ci^dit." 


OF    BEIEB    HILL. 

Tom  blushed  to  hear  himself  thus  com- 
mended. 

"  But  you  mubt  look  out  for  Apollyon/' 
continued  Miss  Alice,  with  a  smile.  "  I 
shall  often  think  of  you,  and  won  del 
whether  you  are  getting  the  victory  over 
him.  You  will  find  that  he  is  not  to  be 
subdued  by  one  blow,  much  less  by  one 
resolve.  He  will  be  putting  his  ugly  head 
in  sight  again  and  again ;  and,  if  he  some- 
times gets  the  better  of  you,  you  must  not 
be  discouraged  and  think  it  is  of  no  use  to 
fight  him  any  longer.  You  have  a  Friend 
to  help  you,  a  thousand  times  stronger 
than  he  is.  Go  to  him  when  you  are 
weak  and  faint-hearted,  and  then,  with 
his  strength  assisting  ycu,  strive  more  man- 
fully than  ever.  He  will  give  you  the 
victory.  Don't  you  remember  how  Chris- 
tian was  ovsrthrown,  and  almost  over- 
come, in  his  battle  with  Apollyon? — but 
12 


134  TOM    TRACY 

he  did  not  ceaas  fighting  him. '  II  he  hadv 
he  would  never  have  conquered  at  last. 

"  I  feel  a  great  deal  of  interest  in  you, 
Tom,"  Miss  Alice  said,  taking  his  hand  in 
her's,  "  and  a  stronger  desire  that  you 
should  become  all  you  ought  to  be  than  I 
can  well  express.  It  is  a  great  thing  to 
be  a  brave,  true-hearted  man.  One  such 
man  can  do  a  vast  amount  of  good  in  the 
world;  and  every  boy  can  become  such  a 
one,  through  God's  grace.  If  you  some- 
times think  of  mo  after  I  have  gone,  re- 
member, this  was  the  wish  of  my  heart: — 
that  you  should  be  a  good  man, — a  noble, 
brave-hearted,  Christian  man." 

Tom  thought  he  saw  tears  in  those  beau- 
tiful eyes,  and  his  heart  was  softened  by 
the  tender  tones  of  that  sweet  voice.  He 
was  sure  he  should  never  forget  her,  or 
the  things  she  had  said, — never,  in  a  hun- 
dred years,  i^;  he  wen  to  live  so  long. 


OF     BEIER     HILL  135 

SLe  read  the  feeling  in  his  face.  '4  No, 
Tom,  I  am  sure  vou  won't  forget  me, 
and  if  I  come  back  next  summer  we  will 
see  a  great  deal  of  each  other.  Are  you 
in  a  hurry  to  go  home?  Does  your  mother 
need  you  this  morning?" 

"  There  isn't  any  school,  and  I  don't 
think  she  wants  me.  Is  there  any  thing  I 
can  do  for  you?" 

"  No,  thank  you.  I  was  only  afraid  I 
was  keeping  you  too  long." 

So  saying,  she  pulled  a  crimson  tassel 
that  hung  on  the  wall  near  her  lounge, 
and  in  a  moment  a  servant  came  in. 

"Ann,  will  you  bring  up  some  of  those 
tea-cakes,  and  a  dish  of  apples? — those 
royals  you  knew,"  A  id  Ann  went  out 
again 


136  TOM    TRACY 


CHAPTER 

THE   PARTING. 

IT  seemed  almost  like  a  bright,  beau- 
tiful dream  to  Tom  to  be  sitting  there 
with  Miss  Alice  and  talking  to  her  so 
familiarly ;  and  when  Ann  returned,  bring- 
ing a  waiter,  with  a  small  silver  basket  on 
it  filled  with  little  round  cakes,  and  a  dish 
of  golden  apples,  he  eagerly  watched  all 
her  movements.  She  drew  up  a  little 
table  near  Miss  Alice,  and  placed  her 
dishes  of  cake  and  fruit  on  it.  Then  she 
went  to  a  closet,  and  brought  some  deli- 
cate china  plates,  such  as  Tom  had  never 
seen  before,  some  bright-coloured  napkins, 
two  tumblers,  and  a  beaitiful  little  silver 


OF     BRIER    H.LL.  137 

pitcher,  and  set  them  beside  them;  also  a 
plate  of  little  crackers. 

"Any  thing  more,  Miss  Alice?  The 
fruit-knives?" 

"Yes, — two,  if  you  please." 

And  Ann  brought  two  little  silver  knives, 
prettier  than  any  thing  Tom  had  ever 
dreamed  of. 

"  Now  we  will  have  a  little  luncheon, M 
said  Miss  Alice.  "  I  am  sure  you  must  be 
hungry;  and  so  am  I;  for  I  only  took  a 
cup  of  coffee  for  my  breakfast."  And  she 
handed  him  one  of  those  beautiful  plates 
with  some  cakes  on  it. 

Tom  felt  half  afraid  to  take  them,  his 
hands  looked  so  rough  and  clumsy  by  the 
side  of  Miss  Alice's,  and  he  felt  all  ovei 
BO  awkward  he  was  sure  he  shouldn't  eat 
them  properly.  BUD  he  saw,  to  his  great 
relief,  that  Miss  Alice  was  not  looking  at 

him,  buf  was  very  busj  pcuring  some  milk 
12* 


138  TOM    TRACY 

from  the  pitcher  into  a  tumbler,  and  break- 
ing some  cracker  in  it.  So  lie  grew  more 
comfortable,  and  began  to  eat  his  cakes, 
taking  very  small  mouthfuls.  The  cakes 
were  so  very  nice  that  he  ate  them  all; 
and  when  he  was  offered  more,  though  he 
declined,  he  thought  he  could  have  eaten 
several  with  a  good  relish.  Miss  Alice 
then  gave  him  a  plate  with  two  apples,  a 
napkin,  and  one  of  those  beautiful  little 
knives. 

Tom  did  not  like  to  experiment  with 
the  knife:  so  he  bluntly  said,  "I  never  eat 
my  apples  with  a  knife,"  and  began  biting 
one, — though  he  coloured  as  he  did  it. 

"  I  think  myself  they  taste  better  so," 
said  Miss  Alice,  smiling,  "when  one  has 
such  sound  teeth  as  your's." 

Tom  ate  his  apples  with  all  a  boy's 
hearty  enjoyment,  drank  some  water,  and 
.set  his  plate  b\ck  en  the  table,  feeling 


OF    BRIER    HILL.  139 

that  he  had  passed  through  the  ordeal 
more  coinfoi  fcably  than  he  feared.  Miss 
Alice  had  all  the  tine  been  talking  very 
pleasantly,  asking  him  what  he  studied  at 
school;  which  of  his  studies  he  liked 
best;  if  he  liked  to  read,  and  what  kind 
of  books.  And  then  she  told  him  about 
the  books  she  liked  best  when  she  was 
of  his  age,  and  to  what  kind  of  school  she 
went. 

Many  times,  since  Tom  had  been  in  the 
room,  he  had  looked  earnestly  at  a  pic- 
ture hanging  on  the  wall  opposite.  Mise 
Alice  noticed  it,  and  asked  him  if  he 
liked  it. 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  do.  I  think  it  is  the  hand- 
somest picture  I  ever  saw." 

Poor  Tom!  IT 3  had  never  in  all  his 
life  seen  a  dozen  pictures,  and  those  were 
cheap  coloured  prints.  No  wonder  he 
though !,  this  exquisite  engraving  of  one  of 


130  TOM    TRACY 

Raphael's  Madonnas  finer  than  any  thing 
he  had  seen. 

"Oh,  what  a  beautiful  lady!  Who  ia 
it,  Miss  Alice?"  he  asked,  as  he  stood 
looking  up  at  it. 

"  It  is  intended  to  represent  Mary,  the 
mother  of  Jesus.  It  is  a  very  sweet,  holy 
face:  I  am  never  tired  of  looking  at  it." 

"  What  has  she  got  that  over  her  head 
for? — that  round  thing,  I  mean?" 

"  That  is  in  all  the  old  pictures  of  the 
Virgin  Mary,  and  is  designed  to  represent 
her  as  crowned  with  glory." 

Tom  now  thought  he  must  go. 

"  I  suppose  I  shall  not  see  you  again," 
said  Miss  Alice;  "for  I  shall  go  the  first 
warm  day." 

Tom  looked  very  sorrowful.  His  warm 
heart  was  full  of  grief ;  for  he  had  never 
seen  any  one  he  thought  was  ha,lf  so  kind 
and  beautiful  and  good  as  Miss  Alice.  He 


OF   BRIER   HILL.  141 

could  not  put  his  feelings  into  words,  but 
tears  filled  in  his  eyes. 

UI  will  give  you  something  to  remem- 
ber me  by,"  she  said,  going  to  her  bureau, 
"  something  which,  if  I  should  not  come 
back," — her  voice  broke  a  little,  but  in  an 
instant  it  regained  its  steadiness, — "per- 
haps you  would  like  to  look  at  some- 
times." And  she  took  from  a  drawer  a  little 
picture  of  herself,  neatly  framed.  "  And 
here  is  a  Bible, — a  pmall  one,  which  I  have 
used;  but  I  think  it  will  bring  me  all  the 
more  to  your  mind.  I  want  you  to  keep 
it  and  read  it  for  my  sake,  Tom;  always 
remembering  it  is  God'?  word  to  teach  you 
how  to  live,  and  wheie  to  find  strength 
and  consolation." 

It  was  a  beautiful  gilt-edged  Bible,  with 
a  morocco  cover  and  gilt  clasps. 

Tom  could  only  say,  "Thank  you."  Nc 
other  words  would  come. 


M2  TOM    TRACY 

"If  you  wf-rt  to  please  me,  Tom,"  said 
Miss  Alice,  with  one  of  her  bright  smiles, 
"  remember,  it  will  alwaysmake  me  happy, 
wherever  I  am,  to  know  that  you  are  get- 
ting the  better  of  your  old  enemy, — the 
quick  temper.  I  do  want  you  to  be  a 
good  boy,  Tom,"  she  added,  tenderly,  "to 
love  God  and  be  his  obedient  child.  Then 
we  shall  meet  again  in  a  better  world,  if 
not  here; — but  I  hope  I  shall  come  back 
here  when  the  birds  and  flowers  do.  You 
will  be  glad  to  see  me,  won't  you?" 

So  they  parted, — the  poor  boy,  full  of 
health  and  fresh  young  life  in  everv  vein ; 
the  beautiful  and  beloved  heiress,  of  great 
wealth,  with  disease  wasting  her  strength 
and  fixing  its  fatal  grasp  upon  her. 

"Next  sp-ing,"  she  murmured,  as  she 
lay  exhausted  on  the  lounge.  "  Yes :  the 
birds  and  flowers  will  come,  but  I ' 

She  wept  quietly;  but  they  were  very 


OF    BRIER    HILL.  143 

sad  and  bitter  tears.  She  had  hoped  tc 
accomplish  so  much  in  life,  to  enjoy  so 
much,  so  many  ties  bound  her  to  earth  on 
every  side,  that  it  was  hard  to  die!  She 
knew  she  could  never  be  well  again,  and 
that  probably  only  a  few  months  more  re- 
mained to  her  on  earth,  and  those,  months 
of  weariness  and  weakness. 

But  in  a  little  while  the  bitternesa 
passed  away,  and  a  sweet  spirit  of  resig- 
nation came  in  its  place.  If  there  were 
many  enjoyments  and  many  friends  on 
earth,  were  there  not  many  more  in  hea- 
ven ?  If  she  left  unfulfilled  her  plans  of 
usefulness  here,  would  not  Jesus  give  hei 
work  to  do  for  him  there? 

"No,"  she  murmured,  softly,  "I  would 
not  have  it  otherwise.  Thou,  Lord,  art 
loving  and  wise;  thou  knowest  how  tc 
plan  for  me,  and  I  am  not  afreid  to  trust 
myself  in  thy  hands  I  have  given  my 


144  TOM    TRACY 

self  lo  the0/,  and  I  know  thou  wilt  keep 
what  I  have  committed  to  thee.  No :  I 
would  not  be  left  to  choose  for  myself. 
Though  I  walk  through  the  valley  of  the 
Bhadow  of  death,  I  will  fear  no  evil,  for 
thou,  0  Lord,  art  with  ine;  thy  rod  and 
thy  staff  they  comfort  me."  And  a  sweet 
brightness  overspread  her  face  as,  with 
closed  eyes,  she  repeated,  very  softly,  hei 
favourite  hymn : — 

"  Thy  way,  not  mine,  0  Lord! 

However  dark  it  be ; 
Lead  me  by  thine  own  hand, 
Choose  out  the  path  for  me. 

"  Smooth  let  it  be,  or  rough, 

It  will  be  still  the  best ; 
Winding  or  straight,  it  matters  not, 
It  leads  me  to  thy  rest. 

"  I  dare  not  choose  my  lot; 

I  would  not,  if  I  might : 
Choose  thou  for  me,  0  God ! 
So  shall  I  walk  aright. 

"  Take  thou  my  cup,  and  it 
With  joy  or  sorrow  fill ; 


OF    BEIEE    HILL.  145 

As  best  to  thee  may  seem, 
Choose  thou  my  good  or  ill. 

*'  Choose  thou  for  me  my  friends, 

My  sickness,  or  my  health ; 
Choose  thou  my  cares  for  me, 
My  poverty  or  wealth. 

"  Not  mine,  not  mine  the  choice, 

In  great  things,  or  in  small ; 
Be  thou  my  guide,  my  strength, 
My  wisdom,  and  my  all." 

Her  thoughts  then  turned  towards  Tom. 
11  It  is  singular,"  thought  she,  "how  much 
interest  I  take  in  that  child :  something 
•?eems  to  bring  him  very  near  my  heart. 
It  would  be  pleasant  to  come  back  here  for 
his  sake,  to  try  to  help  him  in  some  way, 
if  I  could;  but  Jesus  can  help  him — oh, 
so  much  better !  I  will  not  fear  for  him, 
either."  And  she  prayed  earnestly  that 
the  dear  boy  might  be  evermore  in  God's 
holy  keeping. 

Alice  was  never  satisfied  with  merely 
praying  for  those  she  loved  and  she  tried 

13 


J46  TOM    TiiACY 

to  tie  vise  some  plan  for  helping  both  Tom 
and  his  mother.  After  some  minutes  of 
silent  thought,  she  reached  out  her  hand 
for  her  memorandum-book  and  made  a 
note  in  it;  then,  lying  back  quietly,  she 
soon  fell  into  a  quiet  sleep. 

In  the  mean  time,  Tom  had  climbed  the 
hill,  with  a  heart  quite  subdued  by  tender 
emotions,  half  joyful,  half  sad. 

"One  thing  I  am  glad  of,"  he  said,  when 
he  had  told  his  mother  about  his  long 
visit:  "I  am  so  glad  Miss  Alice  can  ride 
out  every  pleasant  day.  She  looks  as  well 
and  bright  as  can  be.  Oh,  mother,  don  t 
you  think  this  is  beautiful?"  (showing  her 
the  picture;)  "but  it  is  not  half  so  pretty 
as  she  is!"  And  he  gazed  at  it  with  new 
delight.  It  was  indeed  a  very  sweet,  lovel} 
face,  and  very  much  like  Miss  Alice's ;  only 
it  lacked  the  soft  light  in  the  eyes,  and  the 
kind  beautiful,  beaming  smile. 


BEIEE,    HILL.  147 


CHAPTER  IX. 

GIFTS   AND    LETTEES. 

A.  FEW  weeks  have  passed,  aid  once 
more  we  will  look  into  the  little  brown 
house  on  Brier  Hill.  It  is  a  cold,  still 
night  in  February.  The  mother  has  drawn 
quite  close  to  the  stove,  and  is  knitting 
busily ;  while  Tom  sits  by  the  little  stand, 
on  which  one  tallow  candle  burns,  poring 
over  his  slate  and  bending  all  his  energies 
upon  his  arithmetic-lesson.  He  has  gone 
over  a  sum  three  times,  and  still  two  of 
his  figures  obstinately  differ  from  those  re- 
quired, and  he  is  about  coming  to  the  con- 
clusion— always  reached  in  such  dilemmas 
— that  the  book  is  wrong,  when,  bending 


148  TOM    TRACY 

his  knitted  brows  over  it  again,  he  pre- 
sently exclaims,  aloud, — 

"Oh,  I've  got  it!  I've  got  it!  I  see. 
now!"  And,  sure  enough,  it  was  all  as 
clear  as  daylight  where  he  had  made  a 
mistake,  and  the  book,  after  all,  was 
right. 

"I'm  glad  you  persevered,"  said  his 
mother,  looking  up  into  her  boy's  bright, 
happy  face.  "  Perseverance  generally  over- 
comes all  obstacles.  No  boy  will  ever 
make  a  genuine  man  till  he  has  learned 
to  buckle  down  to  hard  work,  and,  instead 
of  giving  up  at  the  first  or  second  defeat, 
keep  on  working  fill  he  has  conquered. 
Yes,  perseverance  is  the  secret  of  success, 
and  I  think.  Tom,  you  have  improved  n 
thiw  respect  this  winter, — and  in  others  too. 
I  think  you  have  acquired  more  control 
over  your  temper." 

Mrs.  Tracy  was  not  given  to  praising 


OF    IKIEK    ilLL.  149 

Lightly,  and  never  commended  Tom  un- 
less he  really  deserved  it.  So  these 
words  were  very  precious  to  him;  and 
he  looked  up  from  the  slate,  on  which  he 
was  beginning  a  new  sum,  very  mucL 
pleased. 

"Yes,  mother,"  he  said:  "since  I  injured 
John  I  think  I  have  tried  to  be  more  care- 
ful; and  always  when  I  look  at  Miss 
Alice's  picture  I  think  of  what  she  said, 
and  how  she  wanted  me  to  conquer  my 
enemy." 

"And  is  that  all?"  asked  the  mother, 
gently. 

"  No,  mother,"  added  Tom,  softly.  "  I 
hope  I  have  been  helped  to  do  right.  I 
think  I  have.  When  I  ara  provoked,  I 
seem  to  hear  something  saying,  '  Don't  be 
angry,  Tom !  Don't  forget  your  resolution ; 
don't  let  your  temper  get  the  upper  hand,' 
— and  so  I  have  time  to  think,  and  to  stop 


13* 


150  TOM    TRACY 

the  angry  word  or  blow;  and  then  I  am 
so  glad!" 

Gratefal  tears  dimmed  the  fond  mother's 
eyes.  Not  all  the  wealth  of  the  Indies 
could  have  sent  through  her  heart  such  a 
thrill  of  pure  joy.  But  no  more  was  said; 
and  in  a  few  minutes  Tom  turned  to  the 
table,  and  began  ciphering  again. 

His  mother  was  absorbed  }>y  her  plea- 
sant thoughts,  and  no  sound  was  heard 
save  the  steady  ticking  of  the  clock  and 
the  scratching  of  Tom's  pencil.  The  quiet 
was  suddenly  disturbed  by  the  sound  of 
sleigh-bells  very  near  the  house.  Yes, 
they  were  turning  into  the  yard,  and  were 
even  then  at  the  door!  Rarely  indeed  did 
such  sounds  disturb  their  evening  quiet  on 
that  lonely  hill ;  and  Mrs.  Tracy  trembled 
as  she  opened  the  door,  dreading  she  knew 
not  what,  but  thinkirg,  "Surely  come  bad 
news  has  ;ome.' 


OF    BRIER    HILL.  151 

•'  Hallo  there  1"  cried  out  a  bluff,  hearty 
voice  which  she  knew  to  be  Mr.  Parker's, 
— when  all  idea  of  bad  news  vanished  at 
once.  "How  are  you  all?  Where's  Tom? 
Oh,  here  you  are.  Well,  my  boy,  what 
do  you  think  I've  got  for  you?  Open 
your  eyes  wide,  now.  Here's  a  box  for 
you, — an  express-box, — all  the  way  from 
New  York.  Think  of  that,  boy !" 

"For  me!  Why,  what  is  it?  Who 
sent  it?" 

"  I  found  it  over  at  Centre ville  to-day. 
Here  it  is,  you  see : — '  Master  Thomas 
Tracy,  care  of  Mrs.  Mary  Tracy,  Rock- 
field.'  That  means  you,  I  take  it;  and  I 
can  guess  who  sent  it:  can't  you,  Tom?" 

It  was  quite  a  large  bcx,  directed  as 
Mr.  Parker  had  said;  and  Tom's  heart  was 
all  in  a  flutter  when  he  carried  it  in. 

Mr.  Parker  was  in  a  very  great  hurry. 
"  Hadn't  ber~  home  since  morning,"  IIP 


152  TOM    TRACY 

said.  So  he  bade  them  good-night  and  the 
bells  jingled  away  down  the  lull. 

The  box  was  soon  opened;  and  surel) 
no  box — even  those  packed  by  fairy  hands 
in  olden  times — ever  disclosed  treasures 
more  delightfully  surprising  than  those 
which  this  contained.  It  took  Tom  and 
his  mother  some  time  to  examine  and 
comprehend  the  whole;  but  we  will  give 
an  inventory  of  its  contents,  omitting  the 
exclamations  made  as  they  were,  one  by 
one,  brought  to  sight. 

First  came  a  bag,  labelled,  "For  Mrs. 
Tracy,"  which  was  found  to  contain  a 
muff  and  tippet  of  black  fur, — not  very 
costly,  but  such  as  would  be  very  warm 
and  comfortable  for  her  to  wear  to  church. 
Next  was  a  large  parcel,  containing  cloth 
enough  for  a  suit  of  clothes, — stout,  heavy 
gray  cloth,  suitable  for  boy's  wear, — 
marked,  "For  Tom."  Then  an  outside 


OF    BHIER    HILL  153 

garment,  which  looked  almost  ne#,  and 
of  nice  material,  such  as  Tom  had  never 
seen  before:  this  was  also  "For  Torn." 
Then  came  a  smaller  bundle,  ;<  For  Little 
Mary,"  which  had  in  it  two  nice  dress- 
patterns, — one  of  bright  crimson  merino, 
the  other  a  blue  French  calico, — and  two 
beautiful  little  white  aprons,  tastefully 
made,  two  picture-books,  a  china  doll,  and 
a  little  box  filled  with  sugar  toyj.  Then 
came  several  books,  most  of  them  having 
Tom's  name  written  on  the  fly-leaf,  "from 
his  friend  A.  R." 

"Oh,  yes;  I  knew  a  great  while  ago  it 
was  from  Miss  Alice :  didn't  you, mother?" 
lie  exclaimed. 

Two  or  three  of  the  largest  and  most 
handsomely-bound  volumes  had  Mrs. 
Tracy's  name  inscribed  in  them;  and  in 
one  of  them  were  found  two  letters, — one 
addressed  to  Mrs.  Tracy,  and  one  to  Tom. 


154  TOM    TRACY 

Beneatk  the  books,  at  the  bottom  of  the 
box,  lay  something  carefully  wrapped  in 
stiff  paper  and  closely  sealed.  What 
could  it  be?  It  was  directed  to  Tom, 
and  he  lifted  it  up,  balanced  it  on  his 
hands,  turned  it  over,  and  peeped  in  at 
the  corners ;  but  all  in  vain.  He  could  form 
no  possible  conjecture  of  what  it  might  be. 
It  was  hard  and  flat,  but  a  great  deal  too 
large  for  a  book.  Perhaps  it  was  an 
atlas;  but  then  it  was  larger  than  aa 
atlas. 

"Why,  mother,  what  can  this  be?"  he 
exclaimed.  He  saw  she  was  reading  her 
letter.  He  wanted  to  read  his ;  but  he 
must  first  explore  that  parcel.  It  took 
him  some  time  to  untie  the  strings  and 
remove  the  different  wrappers;  but,  on 
getting  at  the  inside,  he  exclaimed  with 
delight.  It  was  a  picture. — a  beautiful 
picture, — in  r-  rich  frame. 


OF   BRIER   HILL.  155 

"Oh,  mother,  do  look!  Do  see  this  I" 
Bat  he  found  his  mother  had  laid  down 
iier  letter,  and  the  tears  were  fast  flowing 
down  her  cheeks. 

"Oh,  what  is  it?  Is  any  thing  the 
matter,  mother?" 

"Oh,  no,  no:  only  God  is  so  good  to 
me!"  And  she  wept  again. 

It  was  such  an  unusual  thing  for  his 
mother  to  lose  the  control  of  herself,  that 
Tom  was  quite  puzzled.  As  soon  as  she 
became  quiet,  Mrs.  Tracy  read  the  letter 
aloud : — 

"My  DEAR  MRS.  TRACY: — 

"  I  hope  you  will  excuse  me  for  addressing 
you,  for  I  do  not  feel  that  we  are  quite 
strangers.  From  your  son  and  others  I 
have  learned  enough  of  your  history  to 
entertain  great  respect  for  your  character 
and  a  eincere  interest  in  your  welfare.  I 


J56  TOM    TRACY 

became  quite  attached  to  yoir  son,  uad 
often  wish  I  could  see  him  again.  1 
have  taken  the  liberty  of  sending  him  ft 
few  things  which  I  hope  may  remind  him 
pleasantly  of  me,  and  prove  useful.  Th^ 
overcoat  is  one  which  my  nephew  has 
outgrown,  but  it  is  so  little  defaced  it 
seems  a  pity  to  throw  it  aside.  J  think 
it  may  fit  Tom  very  nicely,  and  help  to 
keep  him  wana  in  his  walks  over  your 
cold  hills. 

"I  have  also  enclosed  a  trifling  gift 
for  yourself.  I  trust  it  may  prove  timely, 
and  that  you  may  have  as  much  heartfeh 
delight  in  receiving  as  I  in  sending  it: 
more  I  am  sure  you  Cannot  have. 

"  T  know,  my  dear  Mrs.  Tracy,  that  your 
sorrows  are  such  as  a  young  person  like  me 
whose  whole  life  has  been  shielded  from 
care,  cannot  appreciate;  and  yet  I  have 
longed  in  some  way  to  express  my  sym- 


OF    BRIER    HILL.  157 

path  7  and  regard.  I  am  sure,  as  Torn 
says,  'I  should  love  his  mother,'  and  that 
if  I  could  sit  down  beside  you  we  should 
find  our  hearts  bound  together  by  a  very 
tender  tie.  Those  who  love  and  serve  the 
same  Master  must  have  many  precious 
memories  and  hopes  in  common ;  and,  if  it 
be  his  will,  I  hope  I  may  see  you  in  the 
spring,  and  talk  of  those  things  which  are 
nearest  to  our  hearts ;  but,  if  not,  I  believe 
we  shall  meet  and  know  each  other  in  a 
uappifr  home. 

"Your  sincere  friend, 

"ALICE  RAY." 

The  "trifling  gift  enclosed"  was  a  check 
for  fifty  dollars.  So  wholly  unexpected 
was  it,  and  so  much  had  the  poor  mother 
lately  felt  perplexed  and  troubled  about 
the  future,  that  it  is  no  wonder  she  was 
overcome  by  this  unexpected  relief.  She 

14 


158  TOM    TRACY 

accepted  tlie  gift  in  the  same  spirit  with 
which  it  was  offered,  believing  it  leally 
wae  a  pleasure  to  Miss  Alice's  kind  heart 
to  do  good,  and  therefore  she  allowed  no 
feeling  of  foolish  pride  or  independence  tc 
lessen  her  joy.  Her  heart  overflowed  with 
gratitude,  both  to  the  giver  herself  and 
to  the  great  Giver  who  had  put  it  into  her 
heart  tc  be  so  generous  and  thoughtful. 
She  had  prayed  for  relief,  but  it  had  been 
with  a  faltering  faith;  and  she  now  felt 
that  her  fears  and  distrust  had  been  un- 
worthy of  a  child  and  dishonouring  to 
her  heavenly  Parent.  She  could  not  help 
weeping;  but  they  were  very  refreshing 
tears. 

As  for  Tom,  he  was  so  excited  that  he 
talked  and  laughed,  and  even  shouted,  in 
the  exuberance  of  his  joy. 

"Now,  mother,  you  can  have  every  thing 
you  want!  Oh,  how  rich  we  shall  bel 


OF    BRIER    HILL.  159 

Didn't  I  tell  you  Miss  Alice  wasn't  a  bit 
like  ar.ybody  else?  and  she  isn't:  is  she?'; 
Then,  lifting  up  his  picture  as  high  as  he 
could  possibly  reach,  he  exclaimed,  in  a 
new  burst  of  rapture,  "Did  you  ever  see 
any  thing  like  that?" 

"I  am  afraid  you  will  let  it  fall,  my 
child.  Here ;  let  me  put  it  on  the  table, 
where  I  can  see '  it.  Yes,  it  ia  beautiful 
indeed!" 

And  beautiful  it  was, — an  exquisite  en- 
graving, representing  Christian  and  Hope- 
ful going  up  from  the  river  and  being  met 
by  the  shining  ones,  who  were  pointing 
them  upwards  to  the  celestial  city. 

"But  you  have  not  read  your  letter  yet. 
How  can  you  neglect  that  so  long?" 

"Sure  enough;  but  I  have  got  so  much 
to  think  of,  I  can't  keep  my  head  quite 
straight.  This  nice  overcoat,  all  lined  and 
quilted  1  Do  seel  And  the  sleeves  lined 


160  TOM    TEACY 

with  silk,  too  1  did  you  ever  see  any  thing 
BO  nice?" 

"It  is  very  nice,  indeed, — almost  too 
nice  for  such  a  boy  as  you." 

"Oh,  no,  I  guess  not."  And  Tom 
jumped  up  and  down  in  his  great  joy. 

At  length  he  became  calm  enough  to 
open  the  letter;  but,  not  having  learned 
how  to  write  very  well,  he  could  not  read 
it  easily,  though  written  in  a  large,  plain 
hand,  and  at  length  he  reluctantly  con- 
sented to  listen  while  his  mother  read  it: — 

"My  DEAR  TOM: — 

"  I  am  sure  you  will  be  glad  to  know 
that  I  arrived  safely  at  my  brother's,  with 
less  f&tigue  than  I  expected,  and  am 
feeling  stronger  than  when  I  saw  you  last. 
I  suppose  your  hills  are  still  covered  with 
the  beautiful  white  snow;  but  here  there 
is  none  at  all,  and  people  ride  in  carriages 


CF    BKIEE    HILL.  161 

as  in  summer  I  often  fancy,  when  I  am 
lying  on  my  lounge  with  my  eyes  shut 
just  how  your  hills  look,  shining  in  the 
clear  morning  light.  I  love  Roekfield 
very  much,  and  I  like  to  think  of  you 
and  my  other  friends  there.  If  you  were 
standing  by  my  side,  I  should  ask  you  a 
great  many  questions.  I  should  like  to 
know  how  John  Jackson  is  getting  along. 
Dr.  Wilson  told  me,  the  morning  I  left,  he 
thought  he  would  get  well.  I  hope  you 
and  he  will  be  good  friends  in  future, 
and  both  be  better  for  what  you  have 
suffered. 

"  And  the  old  enemy — how  comes  on  the 
warfare  with  him  in  these  days?  Know- 
ing your  love  of  Pilgrim's  Progress,  I  have 
sent  you  a  copy  which  has  some  beautiful 
plates  in  it.  The  one  I  like  best  is  thai 
in  which  the  Palace  Beautiful  is  rising  in 
the  background,  surrounded  by  lofty  trees 

14* 


162 

its  towers  glittering  in  the  s  inlight,  and 
where  Christian,  walking  in  the  narrow 
path  that  leads  to  it,  sees  two  fierce  lions 
which  he  must  pass,  and  starts  back 
affrighted.  We  know  they  are  chained, 
but  he  did  not.  I  have  very  often  looked 
at  that  picture  when  I  have  been  fearful, 
and  remembered  that  all  the  lions  in 
my  path  are  also  chained,  and  cannot 
injure  me  without  the  permission  of  my 
kind,  heavenly  Father.  I  want  you  to 
learn  this,  Tom, — that  nothing  can  harm 
you,  however  terrible  it  may  look,  while 
you  are  walking  in  the  right  path  and 
under  God's  protection.  Be  not  afraid  of 
poverty,  or  suffering,  or  death.  Be  afraid 
of  nothing  but  wandering  from  the  narrow 
road  of  duty. 

;<  I  hope  tne  books  I  have  selected  will 
suit  you.  One  or  two  of  them  were  great 
favourites  of  mine  at  your  age ;  but  a  boy's 


OF    BRIBE   JILL.  163 

tastea  may  be  different.     I  am  sure  you 
will  like  the  large  picture. 

"The  picture  will  be  one  you  3an  keep, 
and  enjoy  looking  at,  years  hence, — perhaps 
even  more  than  now.  I  like  to  think  of 
you,  Tom,  growing  up  in  your  quiet  home, 
with  your  mother  and  little  Mary,  away 
from  all  the  din  and  wickedness  of  the  great 
city.  May  you  always  be  kept  from  evil, 
and  be  made  a  blessing  to  your  friends  and 
the  world. 

"I  am  with  my  brother,  of  whom  I  told 
you, — the  kindest  and  best  brother  that 
ever  was.  I  think  he  will  go  to  Eockfield 
next  summer;  and  you  will  probably  see 
him.  And  now,  dear  Tom,  good-by.  God 
bless  you,  now  and  forever! 

"From  your  affectionate  friend, 

"ALICE  RAY/' 

"I   don't    think  anybody  was   ever  so 


164  TOM    TRACY 

good  as  Miss  Alice,"  said  Tom,  thought- 
fully. "If  she  were  to  die,  I  know  angels 
would  come  to  get  her" 

"Perhaps  it  is  because  she  is  so  near 
heaven  that  her  spirit  is  so  heavenly," 
said  his  mother.  "She  certainly  is  a  very 
remarkable  person.  Very  few  who  are 
rich  and  surrounded  by  friends,  as  she  is, 
would  think  of  the  sorrows  of  a  poor 
widow  whom  they  had  never  seen." 

But  Tom  could  not  sit  still  long.  Each 
book  was  opened  and  carefully  inspected 
anew.  The  overcoat  was  tried  on  and 
found  to  fit  admirably,  except  that  it  was 
a  little  too  large, — "a  very  good  fault,"  hia 
mother  said.  The  picture,  and  the  cloth, 
and  the  furs,  and  Mary's  dresses  and  play- 
things, were  again  looked  at  and  again  ad- 
mired. And  then  Tom  sat  down  to  plan 
with  his  mother  how  to  use  the  money 
that  had  so  unexpectedly  come  to  them. 


OF    BRIER    HILL.  165 

"Kv.'w  you  can  get  a  rocking-chair, 
mother,''  said  he,  exultingly.  "You  want 
one  so  much  when  you  are  tired ;  and  you 
know  how  bad  you  felt  when  the  old  one 
was  broken." 

"You  can  have  a  pair  of  boots,"  said 
his  mother;  "and  you  need  them  very 
much." 

"Oh!  like  John  Jones's?" 

"I  don't  know  about  John  Jones's,  but  I 
will  get  Mr.  Foote  to  make  a  pair  of  good, 
stout  ones.  When  it  begins  to  thaw,  your 
old  shoes  won't  do  at  all :  yet  I  had  no 
money  to  get  any  others.  I  think  I  felt 
worse  about  that  than  any  other  thing; 
for  I  did  not  like  to  get  into  debt  even 
for  a  pair  of  shoes." 

"My  dear  mother' — you  always  think 
of  me,  and  nevei  of  yourself." 

"We  can  buy  some  coin  now,"  said  the 


166  TOM    TTUCY 

mother,  "and  old  Brindle  and  the  pigs  will 
fare  a  little  better." 

"And  you  won't  have  to  work  so  hard; 
I  don't  think  you  ought  to  do  so  muct 
washing.  And  mayn't  I  get  a  little  wagon 
in  the  spring,  and  draw  Mary  out  in  it?" 

"I  must  wait  and  see.  We  can't  afford 
to  get  any  thing  we  can  do  without,  Tom," 
she  continued,  very  seriously.  "  There  is 
one  thing  I  have  never  spoken  to  you 
about,  which  I  am  very  anxious  to  do. 
When  your  father  died,  there  were  some 
debts  left.  I  have  never  yet  been  able  tc 
pay  them;  but  they  were  honestly  due, 
and  it  would  not  be  honest  in  us  not  tc 
pay  them  if  we  possibly  can." 

Tom  had  seldom  heard  a  word  about  hit 
father,  who  h  id  besn  dead  about  two  years. 
He  remembered  Lim  well,  as  an  invalid, 
almost  always  in  the  house,  sick  and 
feeb'w. 


OF    BRIER    HILL.  167 

It  hac.  been  a  great  coinfor'.  to  the  poor 
widow  to  believe  that  her  children  would 
never  know  of  their  father's  faults. 

"How  much  are  these  debts?" 

"  Over  a  hundred  dollars,  interest  and 
all." 

Tom's  countenance  fell.  "Oh,  mother, 
you  can  never  get  so  much  as  that  to- 
gether! Can't  they  do  without  it?" 

"I  don't  suppose  the  creditors  will  ever 
trouble  me;  probably  they  never  expect 
to  receive  their  pay ;  but  it  is  not  the  less 
right  for  us  to  do  it  if  we  can.  We  will 
try  to  be  honest,  Tom,  if  nothing  more, — 
thoroughly,  strictly  honest,  which  we 
should  not  be  if  we  did  not  make  every 
effort  to  pay  our  debts.  I  will  leave  no 
means  untried  to  redeem  your  father's 
name  from  disgrace,  as  far  as  lies  in  my 
power."  And  she  sighed  heavily. 

Tom  looked  up;  but  he  saw  his  mother 


168  TOM    TKACY 

was  lost  in  painful  thought,  ar.d  he  would 
not  interrupt  her. 

"I  think  we  may  save  twenty-five  dol- 
lars of  this  money,"  she  said,  at  length, 
rousing  herself,  "and  that  will  be  a  nice 
beginning;  and  then  we  can  lay  aside  a 
little  from  time  to  time.  I  am  sure,  Tom, 
you  would  rather  live  a  little  poorer  and 
wear  coarser  clothes  than  to  have  your 
father's  debts  unpaid?" 

"Yes,  mother,  I  should.  I  don't  care 
a  fig  for  myself."  And  his  face  lighted  up 
with  the  brave  smile  which  his  mother 
loved  so  well  to  see  there.  "I  shall  be 
old  enough  to  do  a  great  deal  next  sum- 
mer, and  I  will  save  every  cent  of  the 
money:  I  won't  spend  a  cent  of  it.  Mo- 
ther," he  said,  after  a  pause,  "  I  haven't 
spent  that  shilling  Colonel  Blake  paid 
rne  yet.  I  did  think  of  getting  me  a 
jack-knife  with  it;  but  I  can  d>  well 


OF    BIvIER    HILL.  169 

enough  without  one.  May  I  pv.t  that  in 
towards  the  debt?" 

The  mother  paused  a  moment.  Con- 
flicting emotions  checked  her  utterance. 
It  almost  seemed  like  sacrificing  the  child 
to  atone  for  his  father's  misdeeds.  Yet 
was  it  not  well  that  the  child  should  early 
learn  to  practise  self-denial,  learn  to  be 
honest  and  honourable,  whatever  it  might 
cost? 

"Yes,"  she  said,  quietly,  "you  may:  it 
will  be  quite  a  large  sum  for  you  to  give 
towards  it." 

Lonely  and  widowed  mother,  sitting  by 
that  humble  hearth  amid  the  solitary 
hills,  rejoice.  Do  not  sigh  to  think  you 
cannot  educate  that  boy  as  you  could 
wish.  Such  lessons  of  self-sacrifice  and 
honourable  feeling  as  you  are  daily  teach- 
ing him  are  of  far  more  value  than  thou- 
sands of  gold  and  silver.  With  God's 

15 


170  TOM    TRACY 

ing,  they  shall  make  him  what  wealth 
alone  never  could, — a  brave,  upright,  con- 
scientious man. 

A  prayer  with  hearty,  humble  thanks- 
giving went  up  trom  the  cottage-hearth 
that  night;  and  never  were  blessings  more 
fervently  invoked  on  any  human  head 
than  were  there  breathed  forth  for  their 
dear,  kind  benefactress, — petitions  heard 
and  answered;  for,  if  there  were  joy  and 
peace  in  the  quiet  home  on  Brier  Hill,  so 
were  there  still  purer  peace  and  joy  in 
the  stately  city  mansion  where  Alice  Kay 
laid  herself  down  to  sleep,  sweetly  happy 
in  the  consciousness  of  having  made  others 
happy.  Ah,  full  well  did  He  know  the 
human  heart,  who  said,  "  It  is  better  to 
ivt  than  to  recsive." 


OF     BRIBE    HILL.  171 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE    SCHOOL-FRIEND. 

IT  was  early  in  December  when  John 
Jackson  was  hurt,  and  it  was  a  mild 
spring-like  morning  in  March  when  he 
again  took  his  place  in  the  school-room. 
He  was  still  thin  and  pale,  and  looked 
very  different  from  the  John  Jackson  who 
nad  been  known  as  one  of  the  stoutest 
boys  in  school.  Everybody  was  glad  to 
see  John ;  for  the  hearts  of  those  who  had 
most  disliked  him  had  been  softened  by 
his  long  illness,  and  all  that  was  unplea- 
sant had  been  forgotten. 

Tom  and  John  had  long  before  heartily 
forgiven  each  other.  John  had  been  much 


172  TOM    TKACY 

improved  by  his  winter's  experience,  Sick- 
ness had  taught  him  some  valuable  lessons, 
humbling  his  pride  and  showing  him  his 
dependence  on  others.  And  his  aunt — 
a  sensible,  excellent  woman — had  taken 
advantage  of  the  docility  occasioned  by 
weakness  to  instil  correct  ideas  into  his 
mind.  When  he  was  first  able  to  have 
an  interview  with  Tom,  and  saw  the  peni- 
tent expression  on  his  face,  and  heard  his 
tearful  entreaty,  "Oh,  John,  forgive  me:  I 
am  so  sorry  I  hurt  you!"  he  felt  more 
kindly  towards  him  than  ever  before. 

"Yes,  I  do,"  he  answered,  in  a  very 
weak  voice:  "I  was  in  fault  too;  I  pro- 
voked you  to  do  it."  And  from  that  time 
they  both  had  the  most  friendly  feelings. 
When  John  grew  strong  enough  to  talk, 
Tom  went  in  nearly  every  day  to  see  him, 
and,  if  he  had  a  nice  apple  or  any  nice 
thing  given  him  it  was  sure  to  be  trans- 

O   O  ' 


OF    FRIER    HILL.  173 

ferred  to  John.  His  generous  heart  longed 
to  make  reparation  for  the  injury  he  had 
done,  and  he  fclt  as  if  no  sacrifice  on  his 
part  would  be  too  great  to  make  for  John's 
comfort.  John  had  a  less  noble  nature, 
but  he  became  quite  attached  to  Tom  in 
his  way,  and  missed  him  if  he  did  not 
come  in  to  tell  him  about  the  boys  and 
school-affairs. 

Tom  was  the  happiest  of  the  happy 
the  morning  John  came  to  school.  It  was 
with  his  arm  around  his  neck  that  John 
first  entered  the  school-room;  and  the 
better  feelings  of  all  the  boys  were  touched 
by  seeing  the  two  thus  together. 

Mr.  Carter  gave  him  a  cordial  welcome. 
"It  was  a  dark  day  for  us  all,  John,"  said 
he,  "  when  you  were  hurt,  and  it  is  a  happy 
one  which  brings  you  among  us  again. 
We  all  felt  that  you  were  both  in  fault. 
You  both  have  suffered,  and  we  hope  both 


J74  TOM     TRAOY 

have  been  made  better  by  the  suffering 
It  was  a  kind  Providence  that  kept  one 
D£  you  from  going  suddenly,  with  all  hi  a 
evil  passions  in  full  exercise,  into  the 
presence  of  the  Almighty  Judge,  and 
saved  the  other  from  the  terrible  remorse 
of  having  killed  a  playmate  in  a  fit  of 
anger.  Yes,  God  has  been  good  to  you, 
and  preserved  your  life,  in  order,  I  trust, 
that  it  may  be  spent  in  his  service.  Let 
us  thank  him  for  his  great  goodness." 

And  many  who  often  trifled  away  the 
moments  of  prayer,  that  morning,  as  they 
bowed  their  heads  over  their  desks,  listened 
to  eveiy  word  that  was  spoken,  and  truly 
thanked  God  for  restoring  their  companion. 

The  boys  all  gathered  around  John  at 
recess  with  words  of  welcome.  Tom's 
face  was  fairly  radiant  with  delight.  He 
thought  it  was  the  happit  st  day  of  his 
whole  life;  and  at  noon  he  privately  con- 


OF     BKIER     HILL.  175 

fided  that  sentiment  to  Lizzy  Reed,  his 
great  crony  among  the  girls,  and  enlarged 
upon  the  miserable  feelings  he  had  when 
he  thought  John  would  die. 

"And  if  he  had,  Tom,  should  you  ever 
have  taken  any  more  comfort  all  your  life 
long?" 

"I  don't  believe  I  should.  I  believe  it 
would  have  killed  me." 

"I  guess  it  would,"  said  Lizzy,  in  a  very 
sympathizing  tone. 

"Do  you  have  any  sap  at  your  house?" 
continued  Lizzy,  after  a  pause. 

"No, — not  a  drop." 

"We  do, — ever  so  much.  I  am  going  to 
have  company  Saturday  afternoon, — ever 
so  many  boys  and  girls,  and  we  are  going 
to  sugar-off.*  I  guess  I  shall  ask  you,  if 

*  The  process  cf  manufacturing  maple-sugar  is, 
doubtless,  familiar  to  many  of  our  readers,  but  not 
to  ell.  Whon  the  sap  has  been  collected,  it  is  boiled 


176  TOM    TRACY 

mother  will  let  me.  Cousin  Helen  is 
coming  over  from  Centreville,  to  stay  <\ 
whole  week." 

"Do  you  like  her?" 

"Yes,  pretty  well.  I  think  she's  proud, 
though.  She  has  got  three  rings, — one 
with  a  red  stone  in  it  that  sparkles  like 
every  thing;  and  she's  got  a  real  gold 
chain,  and  a  beautiful  little  locket.  Oh, 
I  wish  I  had  one  just  like  it!" 


down  till  it  becomes  thickened  by  evaporation ; 
and,  just  at  the  point  when  it  begins  to  crystallize 
into  sugar,  being  in  a  "waxy"  state,  it  is  exceed- 
ingly delicious,  if  dipped  out  and  cooled  in  small 
quantities  on  the  snow.  It  has  always  been  the 
custom,  and  still  is,  in  the  hill-towns  where  the 
article  is  produced,  to  invite  friends  (often  from  a 
distance  of  several  miles)  to  join  in  a  little  frolic  on 
this  occasion,  each  being  expected  to  go  to  the 
huge  boiler  and  dip  out  with  a  spoon  some  of  this 
"wax,"  as  it  is  called,  into  a  pan  filled  with  clean 
enow,  on  which  it  cools  suddenly  and  has  a  flavour 
which  it  loses  in  the  later  stages  of  the  process. 
It  is  called  "  sugaring-off,"  because  it  is  just  at  this 
point  that  the  liquid  is  drawn  off  into  moulds. 


OF    BRIER   HILL.  177 

"I  wish  I  was  ricli,  and  then  I  would 
give  you  a  great  deal  prettier  one.  But, 
oh,  dear !  I  am  as  poor  as  a  mouse,  and  I 
suppose  I  always  shall  he.  But,  Lizzy,  I 
don't  care:  I  am  going  to  be  honest;  I  am 
honest,"  he  added,  in  a  proud  tone.  And 
then  he  told  her,  as  a  great  secret,  how  the 
shilling  he  received  from  Colonel  Blake 
would  be  put  in  a  little  box  to  help  pay  a 
debt  his  father  owed.  "  Because  it  wouldn't 
be  right  and  just  not  to  pay  it,  you  know," 
he  said;  "but  we  shall  pay  it,  some  time.'1 

And  Lizzy's  eyes  opened  up  at  Tom 
with  great  admiration,  because  he  was  so 
honest,  and  her  warm  little  heart  sought 
to  comfort  him. 

"It  isn't  any  thing  wrong  to  be  poor. 
My  father  says  so, — and  that  poor  people 
are  just  as  good  as  others.  But  I  guess 
mother  doesn't  think  so.  Aunt  Jane 
don't,  T  know." 


173  TOM    TRACT 

"Who  caros  for  Aunt  Jane? '  said  Tom, 
scornfully.  "I  don't!" 

"I  do,"  said  the  meek  little  Lizzy.  "I 
don't  love  her  as  well  as  I  do  Aunt  Kate; 
but  I  care  some  for  her,  because  she's  my 
aunt;  and  I  don't  think  you  ought  to  talk 
so  about  her." 

"Well,  I  won't,"  said  Tom, — who  was 
particularly  anxious  to  please  Lizzy. 

"Mother,"  said  Tom  that  night,  when 
he  had  told  her  about  John's  coming  to 
school,  and  how  happy  he  felt,  and  what 
Mr.  Carter  said,  "I  guess  I  shall  be  in- 
vited to  Lizzy  Reed's  Saturday  afternoon, 
to  sugar-off.  Won't  that  be  splendid?" 

Mrs.  Tracy  looked  surprised;  for,  next  to 
Colonel  Blake's,  Mr.  Reed's  was  one  of  tho 
most  wealthy  families  in  town,  and  she 
thought  it  would  be  very  strange  if  he 
were  asked;  for  even  in  that  little  village 
lines  of  distinction  were  pretty  accurately 


OF    BRIER    HTLL.  179 

drawn  between  the  Afferent  classes;  but, 
concluding  it  was  only  children's  talk,  she 
said, — 

"I  hardly  think  you  will  be  asked.  Aj 
any  rate,  it  will  be  time  enough  to  think 
about  it  when  you  are." 

"  But  I  guess  I  shall  be.  Lizzy  told  me 
so." 

Lizzy  Reed  was  two  years  younger  than 
Tom, — a  timid,  sweet-tempered  little  crea- 
ture, who  loved  everybody,  and  who  had 
taken  a  particular  fancy  to  Tom,  for  he 
always  defended  her  in  all  her  little  school- 
troubles.  When  she  came  home  that 
night,  she  found  that  her  aunt  Jane  and 
cousin  Helen  had  arrived.  After  tea,  seme- 
thing  was  said  about  Saturday  afternoon's 
party,  and  Lizzy,  with  some  hesitation, 
suggested  that  Tom  Tracy  should  be  in- 
vited. 

"What!  <,hat  boy  of  Widow  Tracy's?' 


180  TOM    TR1CY 

said  her  mother.  "No,  indeed.  I  shaVt 
have  him  asked. !> 

"  Who  is  Widow  Tracy?"  inquired  Aunt 
Jane. 

"A  woman  who  lives  on  Brier  Hill, — a 
poor,  low  family,"  replied  Mrs.  Reed. 

"That  woman  who  did  brother  John's 
washing  last  summer?" 

"Yes;  the  same." 

"Well,  I  must  say,  you've  come  to  a 
fine  pass  over  here  in  Rook  field !"  said 
Aunt  Jane.  "I  think  it's  high  time  Miss 
Lizzy  was  taught  to  be  a  little  more  select 
in  her  society." 

"Yes,  it  is  indeed.  Lizzy,  I  can't 
imagine  what  makes  you  want  to  ask  such 
a  boy  as  that,"  said  her  mother. 

"He  isn't  a  bo,d  boy;  he's  a  good  boy," 
said  Lizzy,  phid  ing  up  all  her  courage  to 
defend  her  friend.  "  H<3  goes  to  our  school, 
and  everybody  likes  him.  He's  poor,  but 


OF    BRIER   HILL.  181 

he's  honest !''  she  added,  triumphant  iy, — aa 
if  that  settlsd  the  question. 

"This  comes  of  sending  children  to  a 
public  school,"  said  Aunt  Jane,  scornfully. 
"I'm  thankful  my  Helen  has  never  been 
mixed  up  with  washerwomen's  children. 
She  wouldn't  have  any  thing  to  do  with 
such  a  boy,  I  know." 

"No,  indeed!"  And  Miss  Helen  played 
with  her  gold  chain  as  she  said  it,  and 
looked  down  quite  disdainfully  at  poor 
Lizzy,  who  had  such  low  tastes. 

"No:  Helen  is  a  little  lady  already," 
said  Mrs.  Reed.  "I  wish  I  could  manage 
the  children  differently :  I  should,  if  I  had 
my  way;  but  Mr.  Reed  Las  very  peculiar 
notions.  Common  schools  are  his  hobby, 
and  I  suppose  Lizzy  will  be  kept  at  one 
all  her  life.  But  I  shall  take  jare  to  pre- 
vent her  associating  with  that  set  out  of 
school.  Lizzy,  let  me  never  hear  you  talk 


10 


182  TOM   TEACY 

of  asking  Tom  Tracy  here  again,"  she 
added,  in  a  very  decided  tone. 

Lizzy  shed  many  tears  after  she  lay 
down  in  her  little  bed  that  night.  A 
child's  heart  always  warms  towards  the 
injured,  and  very  bitterly  injured  did  she 
consider  Tom  to  be  by  this  conversation ; 
and,  in  the  kindness  of  her  heart,  she 
sought  to  make  amends  by  loving  him  her- 
self twice  as  much  as  she  did  before. 

"And  I  told  him  I  was  going  to  ask 
him!"  she  said,  with  a  fresh  sob.  "What 
will  he  think  of  me?"  But  this  and  all 
other  troubles  were  soon  forgotten  in  the 
sound,  dreamless  sleep  of  childhood. 

Mrs.  Reed  was  perhaps  perfectly  right 
in  not  wishing  Tom  Tracy  invited  to 
her  house;  but  she  should  have  given  her 
reasons  in  a  different  spirit.  Children  are 
quick  discerners  of  motives,  and  many  a 
warm,  pure  child-heai  t  is  grieved  by  the 


OF    BE1EE    HILL.  183 

vorldliness  of  those  it  loves,  and  thus  loses 
its  perfect  faith  in  those  it  would  fain  reve- 
rence and  admire. 

The  next  morning  Lizzy  and  her  father 
were  alone  in  the  breakfast-room,  as  the 
latter  was  putting  on  her  bonnet  for 
Bchool. 

"Father,"  she  said,  "may  I  have  a  nice, 
large  cake  of  maple-sugar  to  carry  to 
school?" 

"To  eat  at  recess,  and  spoil  your  din- 
ner?" 

"No,  father:  I  don't  want  to  eat  it 
myself.  I  want  to  give  it  to  somebody 
who  hasn't  any." 

"Why,  certainly  you  may  have  one. 
But,  pray,  who  is  this  mysterious  indivi- 
dual?" 

"Oh,  I'd  rather  not  tell  who  he.  is, 
father." 

"He?     Ah,  that  is  it.     No  wonder  you 


TOM    TRACT 

are  so  secretive.  I  think  I  must  inquire 
who  lie  is,"  said  her  father,  playfully;  but, 
seeing  she  looked  really  troubled,  he  added, 
lifting  her  upon  his  knee,  "Why,  Lizzy, 
to  be  sure  you  may  give  your  sugar  to 
whom  you  like.  I  don't  want  to  know.  I 
am  glad  you  think  of  those  who  haven't 
any.  That  is  what  you  should  always 
do." 

"But,  father,  I  think  I  will  tell  you: 
only  you  mustn't  ever  tell." 

"No;  never,"  he  answered,  solemnly. 

"It's  for  Tom  Tracy.  He's  a  real  nice 
boy,  and  I  can't  have  him  here  at  the 
sugar-party,  because  he's  poor; — but  he's 
honest;  and  that,  I  have  heard  you  say, 
is  better  than  to  be  rich." 

"So  ft  is,  Lizzy  ;  so  it  is !  I  have  heard 
his  mother  spoken  of  as  a  very  worthy 
woman.  You  must  take  some  nice  sugar 
to  him,"  he  said,  putting  Lizzy  down,  and 


OF    BRIER    HILL,  185 

going  to  the  closet,  '  and  a  large  cake  to 
his  mother,  too.  Has  he  any  sister?" 

"Oh,  yes;  little  Mary." 

"And  there's  a  little  cake  fcr  her, — a 
little  beauty,  isn't  it?" 

"Oh,  yes,  father.  I  am  so  glad!"  And 
her  eyes  sparkled  with  generous  delight. 

This  was  the  plan  her  brain  had  devised, 
after  considerable  study,  to  repair  Tom's 
wrongs.  If  he  could  not  be  invited,  he 
should  have  some  sugar ;  and,  full  of  smiles 
and  dimples,  she  set  off  for  school,  as  light- 
hearted  as  a  bird. 


186  TOM    TRACY 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE    OLD    ENEMY. 

THAT  Friday  mcrning  Tom  arrived  on 
the  school-ground  earlier  than  usual,  for  it 
was  his  turn  to  build  the  fire ;  and  a  roar- 
ing blaze  went  crackling  up  the  chimney 
before  nine  o'clock.  One  after  another 
the  boys  dropped  in,  and  then  some  of  the 
girk,  and  all  began  to  talk  of  the  sugar- 
party,  which  was  quite  an  important  event 
in  their  little  world.  And  the  question 
who  would  and  who  would  not  be  invited 
was  discussed  with  great  anxiety  and 
many  comments. 

In  most  schools  there  is  some  one  boy 
or  girl  who  seems  born  to  be  the  tor- 


OF    BRIBE    HILL.  187 

mentor  of  the  rest,  who  takes  de.ight  in 
teasing  and  in  being  the  bearer  of  un- 
comfortable intelligence.  This  office  was 
filled  in  the  present  instance  by  Hattie 
Cook;  and  now,  drawing  up  within  the 
circle,  she  exclaimed,  with  a  very  signifi- 
cant toss  of  her  head, — 

"  I  know  who  wont  be  invited,  any 
way, — somebody  Lizzy  pretends  to  be 
great  friends  with,  too;  but  they  a'n't 
going  to  invite  washerwomen's  boys." 

Tom's  eyes  flashed.  The  old  enemy 
was  there,  ready  to  take  possession  of  his 
heart.  Was  there  no  helper  also  near,  to 
make  him  think  before  it  was  too  late? 
Yes;  "a  still  small  voice"  was  at  that 
moment  whispering,  "Don't  get  angry, 
Tom.  Remember,  you  have  resolved  to 
govern  your  temper.  Do  it  now!"  But, 
alas!  though  Tom  heard  it  distirctly,  he 
gave  little  heed  to  it.  Instead  of  facing 


TOM    TRACY 

round  and  running  a  sword  right  through 

O  O  O 

Apollyon,  he  turned  coward,  £,i/d  never 
fought  at  all. 

"Who  told  you  that,  Hattie  Cook?"  he 
fcaid,  fiercely. 

"You  needn't  be  so  cross.  I  didn't  say 
'twas  you.  I'll  tell  you  how  I  know ;  for 
I  do  know.  Miss  Bassett  was  sewing  at 
Miss  Reed's  yesterday,  and  she  heard  'em 
say  it.  And  'twas  you;  and  they  said  you 
shouldn't  be  invited,  and  they  wouldn't 
have  Lizzy  associating  any  more  with 
such  a  boy  as  you." 

Tom's  angejc  was  now  at  the  boiling- 
point.  This  only  pleased  Hattie  Cook  all 
the  more,  and  she  continued, — 

"/  don't  think  washerwomen's  boys 
ought  to  expect  to  be  invited  to  go  with 
genteel  people.  Do  you,  George?"  (ad- 
dressing one  of  the  boy^.) 

"If  yon  say  a  word  against  my  mother. 


OF     3RIEK    HILL.  189 

I'll  flog  you,  George.  I'd  flog  you,  if 
you  weren't  a  girl!"  he  shouted,  clenching 
his  fist  and  shaking  it  in  Hattie's  face. 

"  I  s'pose  you  want  to  kill  somebody 
else,  don't  you?"  retorted  the  provoking 
child. 

It  was  just  at  this  unfortunate  moment 
that  Lizzy  Reed  came  tripping  in,  her 
face  bright  as  a  sunbeam,  and  her  heart 
full  of  love.  Going  up  to  Tom,  and  draw- 
ing him  a  little  aside,  she  whispered, — 

"  Oh,  Tom,  here  is  some  sugar  for  you: 
one  cake  is  for  you,  one  for  your  mother, 
and  one  for  little  Mary." 

"Are  you  going  to  ask  me  to  your 
party?"  said  Tom,  at  the  top  of  his  voice. 

"  No,"  said  lazzy,  frightened  by  his  vio- 
lence; "we  can't, — because " 

"  Because  I  am  poor,  and  my  mother  is 
a  washerwoman ! ' '  And  he  seized  the  sugar, 
aod  dashed  it  aga;nst  the  wall  with  such 


190  TOM     TEACY 

force  that  it  fell,  shattered  Lito  frag- 
ments. 

"Oh,  Tom!" 

That  was  all  Lizzy  could  say ;  but  the 
tone  was  inexpressibly  sad. 

"What's  the  row  here?"  cried  one  of 
the  large  boys,  coming  in  just  ahead  of 
Mr.  Carter. 

"  Nothing,  only  Tom  Tracy's  got  one 
of  his  mad  fits;  that's  all,''  said  Hattie 
Cook. 

Mr.  Carter,  who  entered  in  time  to 
hear  this,  turned  a  sorrowful  look  on  Tom, 
but  said  nothing  to  him. 

"  Let  some  one  gather  up  the  sugar 
that  is  scattered  about,"  said  he,  "and  the 
rest  take  your  seats." 

"What  shall  we  do  with  it?"  asked  cue 
of  the  boys.  "It's  all  smashed  up  and 
trod  into  the  floor!" 

Sure   enough,  it  was   all   spoiled, — so 


OF     BRIER     HILL.  191 

broken  and  mixed  with  the  dirt  of  the 
floor  that  none  of  it  was  fit  for  eating, — 
not  even  Mary's  little  cake,  which  had 
been  such  a  beauty. 

Lizzy  could  not  keep  from  crying.  This 
was  the  end  of  all  her  planning  to  please 
Tom,  and  of  all  her  kind  intentions. 

"And  Tom"  (she  thought  to  herself)  "is 
so  cross  and  hateful,  I  never  will  care  any 
thing  for  him,  or  try  to  be  friends  with 
him  any  more." 

By  the  time  Tom  had  reached  his  seat, 
he  was  thoroughly  ashamed  of  himself, 
and  felt  as  uncomfortable  as  he  well 
could. 

Mr.  Carter  always  read  a  passage  from 
the  Bible  befors  prayers,  and  this  morn- 
rng  he  came  to  the  chapter  which  records 
the  sin  of  Peter,  who  cursed  and  sworo, 
and  denied  his  Master: — "And  when 
Jesus  leaked  upon  him,  he  went  out,  and 


192  TOM    TKACY 

wept  bitterly."  It  seemed  tc  Tom  as  if 
Jesus  looked  at  him;  and,  as  he  bowed 
his  head,  the  hot  tears  ran  down  his 
cheeks.  He  felt  too  wicked  to  pray ;  yet 
from  his  inmost  heart  went  forth  a  piercing 
cry  for  pardon  and  help.  In  his  prayer 
Mr.  Carter  repeated  the  words,  "God  be 
merciful  to  me  a  sinner;"  and  it  seemed 
to  Tom  as  if  they  expressed  exactly  what 
he  felt.  He  wanted  God  to  be  merciful 
to  him;  and  he  was  a  sinner, — oh,  such  a 
sinner!  And,  if  the  cry  of  the  publican 
was  accepted,  let  us  hope  that  of  the  poor 
erring  boy  was  also  heard. 

Tom  could  not  study  that  morning. 
His  mind  was  confused.  He  despised 
himself,  and  felt  as  if  everybody  despised 
him,  and  he  could  scarcely  bear  to  raise 
his  eyes  from  his  book. 

When  Mr.  Carter  asked  him  if  he  was 
getting  along  well  with  his  sums,  he 


OF    BEIEK    HILL.  193 

looked  up  with  a  quick,  grateful  glance, 
but  said  nothing.  When  at  length  he 
found  courage  to  cast  his  ej  es  around  the 
school-room,  he  found  all  were  busy  at 
their  lessons  and  not  thinking  of  him  at 
all.  He  tried,  once,  to  catch  Lizzy's  eye; 
but  she  persisted  in  turning  her  face  the 
other  way  and  looking  intently  on  her 
book. 

At  recess,  some  of  the  boys  inquired 
about  the  sugar,  and  what  it  all  meant; 
and  George  Moore  told  the  story,  throw- 
ing the  blame  as  far  as  possible  from  Tom. 

"I  like  you,  Tom,  '  he  said,  "if  you 
wouldn't  fire  up  so.  I  don't  think  one 
bit  the  less  of  you  for  being  poor.  My 
father  was  poor  once.  I  have  heard  him 
tell  about  it  a  great  many  times,  and  how 
he  was  glad  to  do  almost  any  thing  to 
earn  a  few  cents.  I  am  sorry  you  were 
so  angry;  but  then  it  was  because  she 

17 


194  TOM  T;\\CT 

twitted  you  about  your  mother,  and  that, 
I  say,  is  real  mean  in  anybody." 

Tears  started  to  Tom's  eyes.  Poor 
Tom!  he  was  always  so  sorry  when  he 
had  done  wrong,  and  yet  so  constantly 
doing  it! 

"I  think  she  was  insulting,"  he  said; 
"  but  then  I  was  most  to  blame.  I  never 
meant  to  get  so  angry  again.  I  do  be- 
lieve I  shall  kill  somebody  yet!"  And  he 
looked  at  John,  as  if  very  grateful  to  him 
for  not  having  been  killed. 

"Oh,  no,  you  won't,"  said  George  Moore. 
"Let's  play  ball  a  while." 

At  noon,  Tom  tried  to  speak  to  Lizzy ; 
but  she  turned  her  face  the  other  way, 
and  went  out  with  other  girls  as  soon  as 
she  had  hurried  en  her  hood  and  cloak. 
This  grieved  Tom  more  than  all  the  rest; 
for  he  and  Lizzy  had  never  quarrelled,  and 
in  their  school-troubles  she  had  always 


Of     BRIjrfR    HILL  195 

taken  his  part  and  given  him  htr  sym- 
pathy. 

He  kept  a  look-out  for  her  in  the  after- 
noon,  and,  though  she  attempted  to  pass 
by  into  the  school-room  without  looking  at 
him,  he  prevented  her. 

"  Oh,  Lizzy,  stop  a  minute.  Don't  he 
so  angry  with  me." 

"  I  don't  like  you,  Tom  Tracy,"  she 
said;  "I  don't  like  you  now.  It  isn't 
because  you  are  poor,  but  because  you  are 
so  bad-tempered." 

"  I  know  I  am,"  said  Tom.  "  I  wish  I 
wasn't.  But  I  wasn't  mad  with  you:  it 
was  Hattie  Cook  that  made  me  mad;  and 
she  did  say  hateful  things,  and  about  my 
mother,  too.  But  I  ought  not  to  have 
given  way  to  it,  I  know." 

"  Oh,  Tom ! — when  I  had  taken  so  much 
pains  to  bring  that  nice  sugar  for  you! 
And  I  thought  'twould  please  you  so 


196  TOM    TEACY 

muoL  1  And  when  I  was  so  sorry  I 
couldn't  ask  yor  to  come  to-morrow,  and 
cried  all  night  a  bout  it !  It  was  too  bad  1 
I  guess  I  sha'n'l  bring  you  any  more  sugar 
very  soon." 

"  I  know  I  don't  deserve  to  have  any 
friends,"  said  Tom.  "  I  hate  myself,  and 
I  suppose  everybody  hates  me.  Miss 
Alice  said  she  loved  me;  but  I  guess  she 
wouldn't  now."  And  he  gave  a  deep  sigh. 

His  sorrow  touched  little  Lizzy's  tender 
heart,  and  she  looked  at  him  with  her 
eyes  full  of  pity. 

'*  I  do  like  you,  Tom,"  she  said;  "  only 
I  wonder  you  can  be  so  cross  and  hateful 
sometimes.  What  does  make  you  so?" 

"It's  Apollyon,"  said  Tom;  "and  I 
must  fight  and  kill  him.  The  very  next 
time  he  comes,  with  his  dragon  wings  and 
fiery  darts,  I  mean  to  drive  him  off,  and 
not  let  him  get  the  victory." 


OF    ERIER    ZILL.  19'i 

Never  having  read  Pilgrim's  Progress, 
Lizzy  was  sorely  puzzled.  What  Tom 
was  talking  about  she  could  not  conceive; 
and  she  answered,  very  meekly, — 

"  I  hope  you  will  kill  him,  if  he  makes 
you  act  so;  but  I  never  heard  of  him 
before." 

From  the  time  Tom  could  remember 
any  thing,  it  had  been  one  of  his  Sunday- 
treats  to  have  a  copy  of  Pilgrim's  Pro- 
gress brought  from  the  best  room  and 
opened  on  a  table  before  him,  where  he 
could  study  the  pictures,  handling  it  very 
carefully,  while  his  mother  explained  what 
they  meant;  so  that,  before  he  was  six 
years  old,  the  Palace  Beautiful,  and  the 
house  of  the  Interpreter,  and  Mr.  Evan- 
gelist, and  Mr.  Great-heart,  and  Doubting- 
Castle,  all  existed  in  hi  mind  as  some- 
thing intensely  real  and  interesting.  As 
he  grew  oldor,  when  his  mother  was 


198  TOM    TEACY 

about  to  read  to  tim,  he  would   always 
say, — 

"  Oh,  read  about  Mr.  Great-heart,  and 
about  how  Giant  Despair  had  his  head  cut 
off." 

The  martial  element  lurking  in  the 
boy's  nature  was  gratified  by  these  life- 
like pictures  of  contests  and  victories,  and 
he  would  often  become  so  excited  as  to 
clap  his  hands  in  triumph  when  some  foe 
was  slain.  He  never  seemed  tired  of 
hearing  these  stories  repeated,  over  and 
over;  so  that  when  by  chance  Miss  Alice 
alluded  to  the  book,  it  touched  a  key  most 
ready  to  respond. 

Tom  had  now  begun  to  discover  the 
real  import  of  the  story,  though  some- 
what vaguely ;  and  there  was  probably  in 
his  mind  a  curious  mixture  of  material 
giants  and  swords  and  castles  with  more 
spiritual  conceptk  is.  But  Lizzy's  total 


OF    BRIER    HILL.  199 

ignorance  o.  all  these  points  seemed  to 
him  deplorable;  and,  as  they  sat  together 
on  a  log  in  the  wood-shed,  he  undertook 
to  enlighten  it,  ly  detailing  as  well  as  he 
could  some  of  Apollyon's  most  remark- 
able acts,  as  well  as  the  manner  of  his 
death. 

By  the  time  the  teacher  arrived,  a  very 
good  understanding  existed  between  Tom 
and  Lizzy;  and,  though  the  latter's  ideas 
of  Apollyon  were  by  no  means  clear,  she 
encouraged  Tom  to  hope  he  would  eventu- 
ally put  an  end  to  him. 

When  Lizzy  was  sitting  with  her  father, 
after  tea,  he  inquired  how  Tom  Tracy 
liked  his  sugar,  and  heard,  in  reply,  a 
long  story,  in  which  Hattie  Cook  and  Tom 
Tracy,  and  Apollyon  and  dragon's  winga 
and  fiery  darts,  were  so  inextricably  mixed 
up  that  he  could  make  nothing  of  it,  save 
that,  ^y  some  means,  t'.--e  sugar  was  broken 


200  TOM    TRACY 

on  the  floor,  and  spoiled.  Lizzy  vvas  very 
careful  to  keep  Tom's  failings  in  the  tack- 
ground  as  much  as  possible;  and,  when 
she  had  ended,  her  father  said, — 

"  Well,  Lizzy,  I  think  we  must  send 
another  cake  or  two  over  to-morrow  morn- 
ing: mustn't  we?  This  Tom  seems  a  great 
favourite  of  your's." 

"Was  there  ever 'such  a  good  father  as 
mine?"  said  Lizzie  to  herself  that  night. 
And,  when  she  said  her  prayers,  she  added 
a  special  petition  that  Tom  might  be  a 
good  boy  and  not  let  Apollyon  get  the 
victory  over  him. 

Tom  usually  told  his  mother  all  his 
troubles ;  and  that  night  he  did  not  hide 
from  her  how  very  badly  he  had  be- 
haved. 

"I  do  believe,"  he  said,  in  a  dis- 
couraged tone,  "  that  I  am  worse  than 
anybody  else.  I  am  afraid  I  never  shall 


OF     BElEiv     MILL.  201 

be  any  better.  I  wish  I  could  he  dif- 
ferent I" 

He  had  much  reason  for  self-reproach; 
but  so  long  as  he  was  truly  sorry  for  his 
faults  and  anxious  to  reform,  his  mother 
felt  hopeful  concerning  him. 

"  No  bad  habit  can  be  cured  at  once," 
she  said:  "it  is  only  through  many  con- 
flicts that  we  overcome  at  last.  Don't 
you  remember  the  weeds  in  my  flower- 
bed last  summer,  how  you  had  to  pull 
them  up,  over  and  over  again,  before  the 
bed  was  freed  from  them?  So  with  your 
heart.  The  root  of  a  bad  temper  is  there, 
and  you  will  have  to  pluck  at  it  many 
times  over  before  it  will  oe  thoroughly  ex- 
terminated. Don't  be  discouraged.  If 
you  have  failed  to-day,  let  it  make  you 
more  humble  and  watchful  in  future." 

Tom  remembered,  also,  how  Miss  Alice 
had  told  him  that,  whenever  he  had  dono 


202  TOM    TRACY 

wrong,  tie  must  go  and  tell  Jesus  how 
weak  and  sinful  lie  was,  and  seek  his  for- 
giveness and  help.  So,  when  he  went  to 
his  own  room  that  night,  he  did  try  to  tell 
Jesus  all  about  his  sins  and  to  geek  pardon 
and  aid.  It  was  very  painful  to  think  of 
his  broken  resolutions,  and  to  see  how 
little  strength  of  purpose  he  had;  but  it 
was  better  to  mourn  over  his  folly  than  to 
keep  on  doing  wrong  without  any  sorrow. 
It  seemed  very  wonderful  to  Tom  that 
Jesus  Christ  should  be  willing  to  forgive 
him  so  many  times,  and  to  keep  helping 
him.  But  he  believed  he  was,  because 
the  Bible  said  so,  as  well  as  his  mother  and 
Miss  Alice.  And  this  belief  filled  his  heart 
with  unspeakable  joy  and  gratitude.  He 
rejoiced  that  he  still  had  an  opportunity  to 
improve;  and  he  resolved,  by  the  blessing 
of  Gcd,  to  try  anew.  He  thought  ten- 
derly of  Miss  Alice,  and,  murmuring  to 


OF    BRIBE    HILL.  203 

himself,  "I  will  yet  prove  worthy  of  her 
confidence,"  he  fell  asleep,  to  wake  in  the 
morning  with  new  hopes  and  in  new  en- 
deavours to  overcome  his  faults. 

Does  some  reader  say  to  himself,  "  Is 
it  really  true  that  Jesus  Christ  comes 
into  a  child's  heart?  Does  he  ever  come 
into  my  heart?"  Yes,  it  is  true.  I  have 
never  seen  you :  I  do  not  know  whether 
you  are  rich,  or  poor;  whether  you  have 
many  kind  friends,  or  are  a  poor  orphan, 
with  no  one  to  love  and  care  for  you; 
whether  you  have  been  taught  about  God 
and  heaven,  or  have  never  given  a  thought 
to  them ;  whether  you  are  gentle  and 
lovely,  or  rough  and  ill  tempered;  whether 
you  are  a  happy  child,  or  a  sorrowful  one, 
shedding  many  bitter  tears.  Of  all  this  I 
know  nothing;  but  I  do  know  that  the 
Holy  Spirit  of  God  has  spoken  to  you, 
entreating  you  to  forsake  evil  and  to  do 


204  TOM    TKAC  7 

what  is  right  and  good.  When  you 
were  tempted  to  tell  a  lie,  or  to  abuse 
some  poor  animal,  or  to  disobey  your 
father,  or  to  go  into  the  streets  among  bad 
boys  at  night,  or  to  slop  at  the  grocery  or 
tavern  and  taste  intoxicating  drink,  or  to 
utter  a  wicked  oath,  did  you  not  hear 
something  say,  "  Don't  do  it !  it  is  wrong; 
don't  do  it"?  And  when  you  have  done 
wrong,  have  you  never,  in  some  soft,  still 
hour  of  twilight,  or  when  you  were  look- 
ing up  at  the  stars,  or  lying  in  your  bed, 
heard  something  whispering  to  you  of  God 
and  his  love  and  telling  you  you  ought  to 
repent  and  reform?  This  was  God's  voice 
in  your  soul.  God  made  you,  and  loves 
you.  He  would  save  you  from  guilt  and 
misery ;  he  would  win  you  to  himself 
and  heaven ;  and  therefore  he  thus  speaks 
to  you.  Oh,  listen  to  those  gentle  plead- 
ings. If  you  will,  they  will,  by  divine 


OF    BRIBE    HILL.  205 

grace,  guide  you  to  nolmess  and  happiness 
and  make  you  a  true  and  loving  child  of 
God.  But  if  you  shut  your  ears,  and  will 
not  heed  them,  these  gentle  whispers  will 
grow  fainter  and  fainter,  till  at  length 
you  will  be  left  without  a  guide, — a  lonely, 
wretched  traveller  in  the  road  to  ruin  and 
death.  God  forbid  that  either  you  or  I 
should  be  thus  forsaken  ! 


206  TOM 


'CHAPTER  XEI. 

THE   RIDE. 

SPRING  had  come,  with  its  life -giving 
breath,  and  waked  all  the  hills  end  valleys 
of  Rockfield  into  verdure  and  song  and 
fragrance.  And  now  Tom  Tracy  looked 
out  from  the  door  of  the  brown  cottage  on 
a  very  different  landscape  from  that  which 
greeted  his  eye  on  the  bright,  cold  morn- 
ing in  December. 

Oh,  if  you  oould  have  stood  by  him 
when  he  came  out,  just  at  sunrise,  stopping 
a  moment  on  the  threshold  to  look  on  the 
scenery  just  about  and  telow  him,  it 
would  have  done  your  heart  good, — unlesa 
you  are  a  great  deal  more  stupid  than  I 


OF     BRIER     HILL.  207 

think  yoa  are.  What  a  deliciously  sweet 
breeze  you  would  have  inhaled,  full  of  the 
breath  of  apple-blossoms  from  the  orchards 
and  of  budding  pines  and  hemlocks  from 
the  woods !  And  every  little  blade  of 
grass,  and  dandelion-blossom  and  butter- 
cup and  daisy,  at  your  feet,  would  have 
looked  up  into  your  face  with  such  a  happy 
smile  you  couldn't  have  helped  laughing 
out,  in  reply,  as  merrily  as  Torn  did. 

You  would  have  seen,  at  the  foot  of  the 
hill,  the  houses  of  the  village,  each  with 
its  trim  little  garden  enclosed  by  currant- 
bushes,  its  newly-made  walks  bordered 
with  tulips  and  sweet-williams,  and  bunches 
of  good  old-fashioned  peonies  standing  at 
the  coi  ners,  with  their  great  buds  swelling 
into  redness;  and  back  of  them,  on  the 
steep  side-hill,  orchards  of  apple-trees  in 
full  bloori,  from  which  burst  forth  such  a 
jubilai.t  chorus  from  robim  and  phebea 


208  TOM    TRACY 

and  bobolinks  and  bluebirds  as  could  be 
heard  nowhere  but  in  Rockfield  or  some 
out-of-the-way  hill-town  just  like  it.  And 
still  farther  back  rose  the  high  hills,  with 
gray,  old  rocks,  and  huge  pines  and  hem- 
locks, from  among  which  gleamed  out  the 
white  birches  and  sturdy  oaks. 

All  this  was  as  fresh  and  joyful  in  that 
morning  light  as  if  it  had  just  come  from 
the  hand  of  God.  And  does  not  the  great 
Creator,  as  each  morning  the  night  and 
darkness  are  rolled  back,  look  on  every 
thing  he  has  made  and  behold  that  it  is 
•very  good? 

Tom  was  very  happy, — happy  at  the 
sight  of  the  beautiful  w^rld  he  lived  in, 
and  happy  in  feeling  that  he  could  do 
something  good  and  useful  in  that  world. 
He  was  busier  than  ever,  now  spring  had 
come.  He  had  old  Brindle  to  milk,  and 
then  to  go  to  Mi.  Jackson's  and  milk  hia 


OF    BKIEE,    HILL.  209 

;3<>w,  and  drive  them  both  to  pasture, — foi 
doing  which  Mr.  Jackson  paid  him  twenty 
cents  a  week ;  and,  if  breakfast  wasn't  ready 
when  he  got  back,  he  weeded  the  beds  in 
the  garden  till  it  was ;  and  after  breakfast 
he  went  to  Widow  Beman's  and  worked 
in  her  garden  till  school-time.  Tom  had 
sharp  eyes  and  nimble  fingers;  and  "they 
must  be  smart  weeds,"  Widow  Beman  said, 
"that  could  get  ahead  of  him."  Then, 
twice  a  week  he  carried  a  basketful  of 
dandelions  to  Mrs.  Blake,  which  he  had 
picked  over-night  or  before  sunrise  that 
morning;  and  he  always  asked  the  kind- 
looking  Mrs.  Blake,  when  she  gave  him 
his  six  cents,  how  Miss  Alice  Ray  was. 
Besides  these  "steady  jobs,"  as  he  called 
them,  he  had  to  run  of  errands,  sometimes 
for  Mr.  Jackson,  sometimes  for  Dr.  Wilson, 
sometimes  for  the  lame  shoemaker  at  the 
corner,  who  had  nc  children ;  so  that,  among 

18* 


210  TOM   TRACY 

them  all,  the  odds  and  ends  of  his  uma 
were  pretty  well  filled  up, — though  he  often 
managed  to  find  time  for  a  game  of  ball 
before  dark.  For  each  of  these  little 
matters  he  was  paid  a  trifle,  which  in  the 
aggregate  amounted  to  considerable.  Why, 
driving  the  cows  alone  would  amount  to 
five  dollars  and  forty  cents  in  the  five 
months ;  and  how  many,  many  things  that 
would  buy!  It  made  Tom  feel  rich  and 
manly  every  time  he  thought  of  it  and  of 
how  a  part  of  it  could  be  set  aside  to  pay 
the  debt.  There's  nothing  lik^  earning 
money  to  make  one  enjoy  it  fully. 

The  habits  of  industry  and  punctuality 
Tom  was  thus  acquiring  were  of  a  great 
deal  more  value  than  the  money;  but  he 
didn't,  probably,  take  that  into  considera- 
tion. Still,  it  pleased  him  to  hear  it  said, 
''That's  a  smart,  active  little  fellow;"  or, 
''That  boy  of  Widow  Tracy's  is  wide 


OF    BRIER    HILL.  211 

awake:  there,  a'n't  a  bit  of  shirk  in 
kirn." 

There  wasn't  any  shirk  in  Tom,  nor  a 
particle  of  sullenness,  either.  He  was  hot 
and  hasty;  but  there  never  lingered  a  re- 
vengeful feeling,  or  any  desire  to  make 
anybody  wretched;  and  even  his  quick 
temper  was  getting  a  little  under  control, 
or  at  least  his  mother  hoped  so  when  she 
saw  him  one  day  clenching  his  fist  at  a 
boy,  and  shouting,  "I'll  knock  you  down, 
I  will!"  and  then  turn  away,  as  if  remem- 
bering John  Jackson,  and  shout,  just  as 
earnestly,  "No,  I  won't,  eitherl" 

Tom  and  his  mother  disagreed  on  one 
point.  Mr.  Parker  had  proposed  taking 
him  to  help  him  on  his  farm  through  the 
summer,  and  Tom  was  very  eager  to  go; 
but  his  mother,  though  sensible  it  would 
be  of  advantage  in  .some  respects,  declined, 
because,  like  a  true  New  England  mother, 


212  TOM    TRACY 

she  felt  that  his  education  was  the  first 
thing  to  be  thought  of,  and  that  the  sum- 
mer-schooling would  be  worth  more  to 
him  in  after-life  than  any  thing  else.  Tom 
himself  wasn't  so  much  in  love  with  study 
as  he  might  have  been.  He  was  of  too 
active  a  temperament,  -and  would  have 
much  preferred  to  be  out  in  the  open  air 
all  day,  to  poring  over  spelling-lessons  and 
geography  and  arithmetic  in  "that  hot 
old  school -house."  But  he  had  learned 
obedience :  so  he  acquiesced, — though  not 
without  many  impatient  feelings. 

The  particular  day  which  was  intro- 
duced by  the  bright,  beautiful  morning  we 
have  described  was  to  be  a  red-letter  day 
in  Tom's  history;  for  Mr.  Parker  had  in- 
vited him  to  ride  over  to  Centreville  with 
him,  and,  it  being  Saturday,  and  her  boy 
so  seld?m  having  a  holiday,  his  mother 
gladly  consented  to  his  gcing.  Nowondei 


OF    BLIER    HILL.  213 

Tom  was  up  earlier  than  usual, — that  hi  a 
cows  were  milked  and  driven  to  the  pas- 
ture before  sunrise,  and  his  parsnip-bed 
weeded  before  breakfast.  No  wonder  that 
long  before  the  hour  set  he  was  all  ready, 
dressed  in  his  "Sunday  best.1'  It  would 
have  done  Miss  Alice's  heart  good  to  see 
how  nice  and  tidy  he  looked  in  the  gray 
suit  his  mother  had  made  from  the  cloth 
she  sent, — standing  there,  his  hair  nicely 
brushed  from  his  forehead,  his  cheeks  rosy 
with  health,  and  his  brown  eyes  sparkling 
with  enjoyment  and  anticipation.  And 
surely  any  mother  might  be  pardoned  for 
thinking,  as  she  did,  as  she  looked  after 
them  riding  down  the  hill,  "There  are  not 
many  such  boys  as  my  Tom.  Everybody 
likes  him ;  and  I  don't  wonder, — he's  so 
active  and  obliging."  And  her  eyes  grew 
moist  as  she  added,  "and  such  a  good  boy 
alwavs  to  n^e.  I  do  believe  God's  Hess-. 


TOM    TRACY 

in£-  will  rest  upon  him."  And  the  good 
m<  'fcher  went  to  her  daily  toil  with  a  prayer 
foj  him  in  her  heart,  if  not  on  her  lips. 

From  beginning  to  end,  the  day  was  full 
of  delight  to  Tom.  There  was  the  charm- 
ing ride  through  the  still  woods,  all  fra- 
grant with  dewy  incense,  where  the  pretty 
squirrels  ran  along  the  branches,  and  the 
wild,  sweet  note  of  the  wood-robin  came 
up  from  some  far-away  depth  of  shade 
with  its  liquid  melody.  Then  followed  the 
entrance  into  Centreville,  a  large  manufac- 
turing town,  full  of  the  bustling  stir  so  at- 
tractive to  a  boy.  Tom's  eyes  and  ears  were 
wide  open,  and  he  asked  questions  enough 
to  tire  out  any  man  less  good-natured 
than  Mr.  Parker.  And  when  their  horse 
was  left  at  the  hotel,  and  Tom  was  per- 
mitted to  go  to  the  bank  and  stores  and 
all  the  different  places  to  which  Mr. 
Parker'p  business  t  ^ok  him,  though  he 


OF    BRIER    "SILL.  215 

kept  very  quiet,  he  found  more  than  ever 
to  see  and  enjoy.  There  were  so  many 
people  in  the  streets,  some  so  beautifully 
dressed,  and  others  looking  so  ragged  and 
dirty, — so  many  houses  crowded  together, 
— so  many  things  in  the  shop-windows, — 
so  many  carriages  driving  by,  with  such 
splendid  horses  and  shining  harness : — oh, 
it  was  all  a  delightful  novelty  to  the  poor 
little  fellow  who  had  never  been  in  a  large 
town  before.* 

"  We  must  go  over  to  the  depot  when 
the  cars  come  in,  Tom.  You'll  like  to  see 
them  and  the  engine,  I  know." 

"Oh,  yes,  sir;  indeed  I  shall!"  And 
Tom's  eyes  shone  with  new  lustre;  for 

*  Why  will  not  those  who  own  horses  be  oftener 
thoughtful  enough  to  afford  little  boys  and  girls  who 
have  no  means  of  leaving  home,  such  a  treat  as  this, — 
/iot  only  giving  a  child  a  happy  day  at  the  time,  bul 
something  to  be  renumbered  with  delight  and  gra 
titude  thr<  ugh  life? 


216  TOM   TRACY 

wasn't  it  one  &f  the  great  boc.sts  of  John 
Jackson  that  he'd  rode  in  the  cars,  and 
wouldn't  seeing  them  be  the  next  best 
thing  to  tell  of? 

So  over  they  went,  and  stood  on  the  plat- 
form waiting.  Presently  the  cars  came,  an  Ji 
the  snorting,  roaring,  panting  engine  shot 
close  by  Tom,  sending  off  such  a  puff  of 
smoke  and  steam  that  he  was  frightened, 
and  started  back  so  suddenly  that  Mr.  Parker 
and  some  others  standing  by  couldn't  keep 
from  laughing — which  made  Tom  feel  rather 
ashamed  of  himself.  But  how  wonderful 
it  was ! — that  huge,  black,  shining  monster 
breathing  fire  and  smoke;  so  many  pass- 
engers crowding  in  and  out,  or  sitting  by 
the  windows;  the  hackmen  calling,  "Car- 
riage, sir?"  ''Carriage,  ma'am?"  "Have 
a  carriage?"  and,  in  the  midst  of  it,  the 
conductor's  cry,  "All  aboard !  All  aboard !" 
and  then  the  startirg  off  of  the  cars  with 


DF   BEIER   HILL.  217 

a  wild    scream,  almost   shrill   enough   to 
awaken  the  dead. 

No  less  of  novelty  was  the  sitting  down 
to  a  hotel-dinner,  at  a  long  table,  filled 
with  strange  faces,  several  of  whom  knew 
Mr.  Parker  and  greeted  him  cordially, — 
talking  over  the  news  of  the  day.  After 
dinner,  Mr.  Parker  gave  Tom  a  quarter  of 
a  dollar  to  spend  as  he  pleased ;  and  he  set 
off  alone  to  invest  it.  What  a  delightful 
perplexity  it  was  to  look  at  the  toy-shop 
windows,  and  wonder  what  each  of  those 
beautiful  things  cost,  and  which  Mary 
would  like  best.  It  was  with  a  feeling  of 
awe  he  ventured  to  ask  a  clerk  to  show 
him  a  doll  which  particularly  struck  his 
fancy.  It  was  a  dollar;  and  Tom  blushed 
all  over  to  think  he  hadn't  money  enough 
to  pay  for  it.  Probably  the  clerk  under- 
stood the  state  of  the  case,  for  he  good-na- 
turedly showed  him  quantities  of  dolls,  and 


218  TOM    TRACY 

lambs  and  cats  and  dogs  that  would  bleat 
and  bark  and  mew,  and  birds  that  would 
sing,  and  cocks  that  would  crow,  saying, 
as  he  put  them  down,  "That's  a  quarter; 
that's  a  shilling ;  that's  a  sixpence."  It 
was  a  hard  task  to  choose;  but,  last  of 
all,  a  red  tin-wagon  with  a  white  horse  car- 
ried the  day.  It  shone  like  silver,  and  then 
the  wheels  would  turn  ever  so  fast ;  and  it 
Was  only  twenty  cents !  Tom's  self-respect 
was  quite  restored  by  the  polite  "thank 
you"  of  the  clerk  as  he  gave  him  the 
change  for  his  quarter ;  and  he  walked  out 
of  the  store,  feeling  that  an  important  ne- 
gotiation had  been  satisfactorily  effected. 
To  be  sure,  only  five  cents  remained,  and 
Tom  had  proposed  to  get  something  for 
his  mother  and  a  few  peanuts  for  himsel£ 
What  cculd  he  g?t  for  five  cents?  Peanuts 
were  out  of  the  question  His  mother 
wouldn't  care  for  iolls,  or  wagons,  or  mew 


CF    BEIER    HILL.  219 

mg  cats,  or  singing  birds.  A  happy  thought 
struck  him : — women  always  wanted  thim- 
bles, and  he  guessed  they  didn't  cost  much, 
they  were  so  small.  So  he  walked  along 
looking  for  thimbles  in  the  windows,  but 
all  in  vain.  In  despair  he  rushed  into  the 
same  shop  which  had  been  so  accommo- 
dating before,  and  to  be  sure  they  had 
thimbles,  "  all  kinds,  gold  and  silver,  ladies' 
and  misses':  which  would  he  like  to  see?" 
In  much  confusion  as  to  the  meaning  of 
the  terms,  he  stammered  out,  "Misses'." 
So  he  was  shown  a  box  quite  full  of  various 
small  sizes.  His  old  friend  had  disap- 
peared, and  a  stern-looking  elderly  man 
taken  his  place.  Of  course,  wild  horses 
wouldn't  have  dragged  fiorn  Tom  that  he 
had  made  a  mistake:  so,  though  most  of 
the  thimbles  did  appear  better  fitted  to 
Mary's  fingers  than  his  mother's,  he  con- 
sidered himself  in  honour  bound  to  tako 


220 

one,  and  it  was  so  lucky  that  the  largest 
one  was  only  four  cents !  A  gocd  genius 
seemed  to  have  accompanied  Tom,  and  he 
felt  grateful  for  it;  for,  though  he  would 
have  been  puzzled  to  tell  what  possible 
use  could  be  made  of  that  small  brass 
thimble,  at  the  moment  it  seemed  a  capi- 
tal investment, — and  a  cent  left  for  pea- 
nuts, too !  How  lucky ! 

"Why,  here  you  are,  my  bo}.  I've 
been  looking  for  you  all  through  Centre 
Street.  Spent  all  your  money,  eh?" 

"Yes,  sir;  all  but  one  cent.  Wouldn't 
you  get  some  peanuts  with  that?' 

"No,  no:  carry  that  home,  to  show  you 
can  leave  off  with  something  in  your 
pocket, — which  is  more  than  some  folks 
ever  le^rn  to  do.  It's  a  good  thing  to 
begin  right.  Now,  Tom,  always  remem- 
ber old  Parker  told  you,  ' Never  spend 
the  last  cent.1  It  will  be  a  good  rule  \t 


OF    BSIER    HILL.  22\ 

go  by  as  long  as  you  l:ve.  It's  spending 
the  last  cent  and  a  littls  over,  and  getting 
credited,  that  ruins  half  the  world.  I  dare 
say,"  he  added,  "  that  cent  will  burn  in 
the  boy's  pocket." 

Tom  felt  of  it  in  his  pocket,  and,  as  it 
was  remarkably  cool,  he  couldn't  imagine 
what  Mr.  Parker  meant. 

On  returning  to  the  hotel,  they  found 
the  hcrse  at  the  door,  and  were  soon  oi> 
their  way  home.  As  Mr.  Parker  wished 
to  see  a  man  living  on  another  road,  they 
returned  to  Rockfield  by  a  different  route, 
and  one  which  lengthened  the  ride  con- 
siderably. This  was  an  added  pleasure. 
They  passed  through  some  large  villages, 
where  the  houses  had  beautiful  yards  and 
gardens,  and  then  over  a  sandy  plain, 
where  Mr.  Parker  dozed  and  Tom  him- 
self almost  went  to  sleep.  However,  when 
a  jog  had  roused  him,  Mr.  Paiker  allowed 


222  TOM     TRACY 

Tom  to  take  the  reins.  He  was  fully 
awake  then;  for  he  had  all  a  bey's  passion 
for  driving,  and,  though  the  sun  was  hot 
and  the  roads  dusty,  our  hero  felt  no 
latigue,  and  was  only  conscious  of  a  wish 
that  such  a  charming;  day  might  last  for- 

O  i/  O 

ever.  At  the  house  where  they  stopped, 
the  walk  to  the  front  entrance  was  bor- 
dered with  beautiful  flowers,  and  the  lady 
was  so  kind  as  to  gather  a  lovely  little 
bouquet  for  Tom,  who  looked  on  them  with 
admiring  eyes,  they  were  so  much  pret- 
tier than  those  at  home.  Now  he  would 
have  a  gift  for  his  mother,  and  one  she 
would  especially  value;  for  she  dearly 
loved  flowers. 

Truly,  the  day  had  been  one  of  un- 
mixed pleasure;  and  when,  just  as  the 
sun  was  setting,  they  drove  up  to  Mrs. 
Tracy's  door,  Tom  might  well  thank  gooa 


OF    BKIEE    HILL.  223 

Mr.  Parker  and  tell  him  it  Lad  leen  the 
happiest  day  he  ever  knew. 

The  good  man's  face  beamed  with  plea- 
sure; for  he  loved  to  make  others  happy. 
And  when,  after  he  was  gone,  and  his 
supper  eaten,  and  his  cows  brought  home 
and  milked,  Tom  sat  down  to  tell  his 
mother  about  all  the  wonderful  sights 
he  had  seen,  it  would  have  been  difficult 
to  say  which  enjoyed  it  most, — the 
eager,  enthusiastic  boy,  or  the  sympa- 
thizing mother,  who  so  wished  to  see  her 
children  good  and  happy,  and  whose  life 
must  henceforth  be  lived  principally  in 
their  joys  and  sorrows. 


TOM   TRAC? 


CHAPTER  XIH. 

THE    INVALID. 

ON  that  beautiful  May-day  which 
brought  so  much  enjoyment  to  Tom,  let 
us  enter  a  room  where  a  very  different 
scene  is  to  be  witnessed.  It  is  a  room  in 
a  large  stone  house  which  stands  a  little 
back  from  the  Hudson  River,  overlooking 
it  and  the  beautiful  scenery  which  adorns 
its  banks.  A  more  charming  situation 
could  scarcely  be  conceived;  and  wealth 
and  taste  had  combined  to  make  it  almost 
like  another  garden  of  Eden  in  summer, 
when  alone  its  inhabitants  dwelt  in  it,  re- 
siding in  the  city  of  New  York  through  the 
winter  months. 


OF    BRIER     HILL.  225 

1  fc  is  morning.  On  a  bed,  supported  by 
pillows  to  a  nearly  upright  position,  lies  a 
pale  but  still  lovely  invalid,  her  eye  rest- 
ing with  delight  on  that  exquisite  land- 
scape, so  varied  and  so  beautifu1  at  every 
point.  It  was  one  familiar  to  her  eye, 
which  had  dwelt  on  it  with  unspeakable 
rapture  thousands  of  times. 

But  now  she  knew  that  her  foot  would 
never  again  press  that  velvety  turf,  or  her 
hand  gather  fragrant  flowers  from  the  beds 
she  had  so  carefully  watched  and  tended. 
Her  brother  was  sitting  beside  her,  with 
her  hand  in  his,  gazing  tenderly  into  her 
face,  which  was  overspread  with  an  inex- 
pressibly calm,  soft  radiance. 

"  Yes,  Walter,  it  is  very  lovely :  I  never 
felt  how  lovely  so  much  as  now.  Some- 
times I  have  felt  that  it  would  be  hard  to 
leave  it;  and  it  would  be,  if  there  were  not 
a  lovelier  home,  and  friends  there  even 


226  TOM    TKACY 

dearer  than  those  I  love  so  dearly  here, — 
yes,  so  very  dearly.  I  wish  you  would 
read  to  me  once  more  my  favourite  chap- 
ter, Walter." 

"I  think  you  must  know  it  by  heart. 
Alice,"  he  said,  smiling,  as  he  took  the 
Testament. 

"  I  dare  say  I  do;  but  I  always  enjoy 
hearing  it  again." 

And  he  read  the  last  chapter  in  Reve- 
lation, in  a  voice  full  of  emotion. 

"Yes,  that  river, — that  pure  river  of 
the  water  of  life,  clear  as  crystal, — how 
beautiful  it  must  be!  Our's,  which  we 
love  so  well,  can  be  only  a  faint  type  of 
?t.  And  those  trees  of  life,  on  either 
side, — trees  that  shall  never  fade.  '  And 
the  throne  of  God  and  the  Lamb  shall 
be  in  it,  and  his  servants  shall  serve 
him.'  Yes,  that  is  best  of  all;  we  shall 
serve  him  there,  not  fitfully  and  half- 


OF    3KIEE   HILL.  22? 

way,  as  we  do  here,  but  so  lovingly  and 
heartily." 

"  I  wonder,"  she  said,  after  a  pause, 
''what  the  service  will  be.  Perhaps  some- 
thing done  for  this  world, — perhaps  not : 
we  can't  tell.  But  it's  enough  that  we 
shall  sei  ve  him.  When  I  was  first  sick, 
it  distressed  me  greatly  that  I  couldn't 
carry,  out  the  plans  I  had  laid  for  doing 
good  here, — that  I  must  die,  and  leave  all 
my  work  undone.  'Twas  a  foolish  feel- 
ing; as  if  we  must  stop  working  when  we 
die.  Now  I  know  we  shall  serve  him 
there;  I  don't  know  in  what  way, — but  in 
his  way,  which -will  be  the  best  one.  He 
loves  us  too  well  to  keep  us  idle." 

"  Don't  you  feel  stronger  than  usual 
this  morning,  Alice?  You  seem  to  be." 

"  I  hardly  know.  I  feel  differently, — 
less  hot  and  restless, — and  my  cough  is  all 
gone.  Perhaps  I  shall  rally  again,  and 


228  TOM    TKACY 

get  strong  enough  to  go  to  Kockfield. 
You  can't  tliink  how  I  have  sometimes 
longed  for  a  breath  of  that  mountain-air: 
it  used  to  invigorate  me  so.  I  love  Aunt 
Blake  so  dearly,  too:  I  should  like  to  see 
her  once  more.  But  I  don't  long  for  any 
thing  very  earnestly  now.  I  feel  so  peace- 
ful and  happy  just  where  I  am." 

"It  is  the  Saviour's  own  gift, — His 
peace.  I  am  so  rejoiced  that  you  suffer 
less;  for  there  nave  been  times  when  I 
felt  that  I  would  gladly  give  you  up,  to 
save  you  from  such  agony." 

"  That  is  often  God's  way  of  making  us 
willing  to  lose  friends." 

"Yes;  for  we  see  how  selfish  it  is  to 
want  them  to  stay  and  suffer  for  our 
eakes." 

There  was  a  long  pause,  and  the  invalid 
dropped  into  a  quiet  slumber.  Her  bro- 
ther looked  at  her  as  she  lay  there, 


OF    BrilER    HILL.  229 

iiand  under  her  head,  breathing  w^th  that 
quick,  short  breath  which  showed  what 
fearful  progress  her  disease  had  made. 
Unutterable  thoughts  passed  through  his 
mind  as  he  gazed.  She  had  been  the  one 
being  he  had  loved  above  all  others,  and 
now  she  was  going  to  leave  him!  How 
strange  it  was  he  could  think  of  it  with 
such  composure, — almost  with  joy!  The 
time,  he  knew,  would  come  when  he  would 
be  crushed  by  a  sense  of  desolation ;  but 
now  all  was  peace  in  his  heart,  as  in  her's. 
There  was  something  real  in  Christian 
faith;  he  knew  it  now.  Christ  did  keep 
his  promise.  He  was  with  his  own,  and 
would  be  for  evermore 

There  had  been  no  secrets  between  the 
two, — no  keeping  back  any  of  the  fears  or 
hopes  of  ehher;  and  that  was  such  a 
blessing  now. 

"  How  fearful  it  must  be,'  he  thought, 
20 


230  TOM    TKACY 

"  when  no  one  dares  to  speak  of  the  leal 
condition  rf  the  sick,  and  so  a  barrier 
rises  up  b<  tween  loving  hearts  just  when 
they  most  need  the  fullest  sympathy!" 

Never  in  their  whole  lives  had  Walter 
and  Alice  Ray  had  so  much  sweet  com- 
munion of  spirit,  or  been  so  truly  one,  as 
since  she  had  lain  on  that  sick-bed;  and 
it  gave  him  a  delightful  assurance  that 
they  should  still  be  one  in  soul  when  she 
had  passed  beyond  sight  or  hearing. 

To  some  it  may  seem  almost  incredible 
that  the  last  hours  passed  with  a  dear 
friend  should  be  not  only  free  from  dis- 
tressing grief,  but  actually  hours  of  holy 
exaltation  and  pure  joy.  But  others  have 
Known  that  it  is  jven  thus, — that  faith  in 
Christ  can  give  such  an  assurance  of  par- 
don and  of  eternal  life  that  death  shall 
seem  but  the  beginning  of  a  fuller  life 
not  -nly  to  the  departing  one,  but  tc  thoHe 


OF   BEIER    HILL.  231 

whtf  love  him  most  truly,  and  who 
wil]  /emain  gazing  up  after  him  when  he 
is  "  received  into  glory," 

T'te  short  slumber  over,  Alice  asked 
that  little  Allie,  a  favourite  niece,  might 
be  brought  to  her.  She  was  the  daughter 
of  her  oldest  brother,  (John,)  a  round, 
rosy-faced  little  creature,  full  of  life  and 
health,  whom  she  had  with  her  a  little 
while  every  day,  when  her  strength  would 
allow. 

So  Allie  was  brought,  and  set  on  the 
bed,  and  allowed  to  play  with  her  fingers 
and  pick  to  pieces  some  flowers  which  lay 
there,  shouting  with  delight  as  the  bright- 
coloured  leaves  fell  on  the  snowy  counter- 
pane. 

"  I  am  so  glad  Allie  isn't  afraid  of  me," 
said  Alice:  "it  would  really  pain  me  if 
she  were.  I  love  little  children  so  well. 
I  never  can  bear  to  have  one  shrink 


232  TOM    TRACY 

me.    I  am  sure  there  will  be  little  children 
in  heaven." 

"  '  Of  such  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven,'  ' 
Baid  her  brother. 

"Yes;  all  will  have  tae  purity  and  sim- 
plicity of  little  children  there.  How  sweet 
it  will  be!" 

"  Walter,"  she  said,  after  the  baby  had 
been  carried  away,  "  I  have  been  think- 
ing this  morning,  among  others,  of  Tom 
Tracy;  and  I  wish,  if  you  ever  go  to 
Rockfield  again,  you  would  find  him. 
Tell  him  I  thought  of  him  now,  and  that 
I  am  sure  I  shall  never  forget  him,  but 
shall  rejoice  whenever  he  gets  a  victory 
over  his  faults.  Why  do  you  smile  so, 
Walter?  The  angels  rejoice  over  sinners 
that  repent,  and  I  am  sure  we  shall  if  we 
ever  get  to  heaven." 

"  I   don't    doubt    that.      I    was   only 


C?    BEIEB    HILL.  233 

smiling  at  seeing  how  strong  a  hold  tnat 
boy  has  upon  your  affections." 

"  It  is  strange;  but  he  is  so  bright,  and 
has  such  an  honest  face  and  such  a  warn: 
heart,  I  am  sure  you  will  like  him  too.  J 
think  he  will  do  a  great  deal  of  good  in 
the  world,  if  he  takes  the  right  course. 
He  is  just  as  old  as  Charlie  was  when  he 
died;  and  sometimes  his  eyes  made  me 
think  of  Charlie's :  they  are  just  such  large 
brown  ones." 

"  Charlie  would  have  been  twelve, 
now.  I  am  sure  he  will  be  glad  to  see 
you,"  said  Walter,  his  eyes  filling  with 
tears, — for  he  had  loved  Charlie  very 
dearly. 

"  I  think  so — I  hope  so."  A  moment 
after,  she  added,  "  Poor  Tom  Tracy  1  there 
are  few  to  care  for  him,  or  to  help -him. 
Do  try  to  do  him  good,  if  you  see  him. 
I  think  he  will  feel  sorry  when  be 


20* 


234 

bears Uncle  Blake,  too;  he  was  al- 
ways gentle  to  me:  perhaps " 

Whatever  she  meant  was  left  unsaid, 
and,  soon  after,  she  sunk  away  into  an- 
other quiet  sleep. 


That  evening,  when  the  moon  rose  soft 
and  dear,  silvering  each  ripple  on  the 
river  and  every  leaf  and  flower-bud  in  the 
garden,  and  flooding  the  piazzas  which 
surrounded  the  house  with  a  subdued  and 
tender  radiance,  had  you  entered  the  room 
of  the  invalid  you  would  have  found  there 
only  the  garment  of  that  sweet,  loving 
soul.  It  had  been  laid  aside,  as  no  longer 
needed;  and  the  soul  had  gone  forth  to 
dwell  in  that  celestial  city  "which  hath 
ac  need  of  the  sun,  neither  of  the  moon, 
for  the  glory  of  God  doth  lighten  it,  and 
the  Lamb  is  the  light  thereof." 


OF    BKIER    HILL.  235 

Very  fair  and  beautiful  was  the  gar- 
ment which  had  shrouded  the  still  fairei 
and  lovelier  spirit;  and  those  who  stood 
beside  all  that  was  left  on  oarth  of  Alice 
Ray  could  not  but  weep  that  so  fair  a 
flower  had  been  gathered,  even  though 
they  knew  it  was  to  bloom  forever  in  the 
paradise  of  God. 

Those  words  to  Walter  were  Alice's 
last.  She  woke,  after  sleeping  nearly  two 
hours ;  but  the  waking  was  almost  imme- 
diately followed  by  a  violent  hemorrhage, 
which  left  her  conscious,  but  too  weak  tc 
speak  or  move;  and,  though  she  lived  till 
near  sunset,  it  was  only  the  faintest  breath  - 
ing  which  told  that  life  still  lingered.  Once 
or  twice  she  opened  her  eyes  and  looked 
at  the  dear  faces  round  her;  and  once, 
about  an  hour  before  her  departure,  her 
iipfe  murmured,  but  too  softly  for  the 
sound  to  reach  mortal  ear;  and,  as  if 


236  TOM    TRACY 

wishing  thus  to  give  them  her  farewell, 
her  eyes  rested  for  a  moment,  with  a 
sweet,  loving  smile,  on  the  faces  of  both 
brothers  and  the  children.  Then  the  lids 
drooped,  and  were  never  lifted  again. 

"  I  changed  the  cruel  prayer  I  made, 
And  bow'd  my  tear-stain'd  face,  and  pray'd 
That  God  would  do  his  will, — and  thus 
He  answer'd  me :  he  parted  us. 
And  now  his  light  makes  glorious 
The  dead,  calm  face, — and  I  am  calm, — 
And  heaven  is  hearkening  a  new  psalm." 


OF    BRIER    HILL.  237 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

A   NEW   GUEST. 

IT  was  a  sorrowful  day  on  Brier  Hill 
when  the  news  of  Alice  Ray's  death 
reached  thsre.  Tom's  grief  was  violent, 
and,  for  the  time,  uncontrollable.  At  first 
he  could  not  believe  it;  for,  though  Mrs. 
Blake  had  repeatedly  told  him  Miss  Alice 
was  worse,  and  though  his  mother  had 
often  expressed  her  fears  that  she  would 
never  be  able  to  come  to  Rockfield  again, 
Tom  would  not  believe  it.  He  knew  in 
his  heart  she  would  get  well,  would  come 
to  Rockfield  and  Brier  Hill,  and  see  his 
flower-bed,  and  let  him  pick  for  her  his 
sweetest  pinks  and  roses;  and  all  the 


238  TOM    TEA.CY 

more  carefully  foi  this  hope  had  he  weeded 
and  watered  them,  thinking  of  the  bright 
eyes  which  would  soon  smile  upon  them 
and  him.  To  think  he  should  never  see 
her  again,  never  hear  her  sweet  voice, — 
nay,  more,  that  all  this  beauty  and  sweet- 
ness had  gone  from  the  earth,  and  that  she 
was  lying  in  the  grave,  never  to  smile  01 
speak  again  on  earth, — it  was  more  that 
he  could  bear  His  heart  seemed  break- 
ing with  the  agony  of  the  thought. 

Mrs.  Tracy  sympathized  deeply  with 
her  son;  but  she  mourned  with  a  more 
chastened  grief.  To  her,  the  beautiful 
young  girl  was  not  dead,  but  living, — 
living  in  her  Father's  house  of  many  man- 
sions, where  no  blight  or  pain  or  sorrow 
could  ever  reach  her,  and,  amia  I  er  tears, 
she  could  rejoice.  She  tried  to  raise 
Tom's  thoughts  tc  this  higher  and  happier 
life,  but  to  little  immediate  purpose.  He 


OF    BRIER    HILL.  239 

tould  only  think  of  his  loss,  and  the  tor- 
rent of  grief  and  disappointment  must 
have  its  way. 

But  the  impetuous  flood  of  sorrow  in 
young  hearts  is  soon  spent;  and  in  time 
Tom's  violent  grief  gave  place  to  sweet 
and  beautiful  memories  of  the  fair  and 
gentle  maiden  who  had  crossed  his  path 
for  a  brief  season.  Every  gift  of  her's 
became  a  cherished,  sacred  relic,  and  espe- 
cially the  picture  which  hung  in  their 
little  parlour. 

There  were  other  hearts  in  Kockfield 
saddened  when  they  heard  that  Alice  Ray 
was  dead.  Scarcely  a  dweller  in  that 
little  village  but  had  liked  to  look  upon 
her  face  as  they  saw  her  at  church  or  in 
her  daily  walks  and  rides.  Many  (espe- 
cially children)  remembered  how  she  had 
stopped  to  give  a  pleasant  word  and 
bright  smile  by  the  wayside.  More  than 


'240  TOM    TEAOT 

one  poor  widow  had  been  helped  by  her, 
and  few  rooms  of  sickness  but  had  been 
cheered  by  her  presence  and  some  timely 
gift  which  showed  she  had  thought  of  the 
peculiar  wants  of  each  invalid.  If  it  were 
only  an  orange  or  a  flower,  there  was 
something  so  winning  in  her  graceful 
manner  of  presenting  it  that  the  whole 
room  seemed  brighter  for  hours  after- 
wards. 

And  at  the  mansion  which  had  been 
her  home  whenever  she  had  come  among 
the  breezy  hills  she  loved  so  well,  there 
was  bitter  grief,  and  mourning  like  that 
for  a  well-beloved  child.  Mrs.  Blake  had 
loved  her  for  her  mother's  sake  as  well  aa 
her  own,  and  her  spacious,  childless  house 
aow  seemed  more  dreary  and  desolate 
than  ever.  And  theie  were  tears  in  eyes 
less  used  to  weep :  let  us  hope  they  were 
Boftening,  penitent  tears,  and  that  earthly 


OF    BKIER    HILL.  241 

Borrow  became,  as  it  so  often  has,  the  har* 
bmger  of  that  godly  sorrow  not  to  be  re- 
pented of. 

One  beautiful  sunny  day  in  October, 
when  all  the  hills  were  glowing  with  the 
richest  autumnal  tints,  Walter  Ray  came 
to  the  cottage  on  Brier  Hill.  He  had 
but  a  single  day  to  spend  in  Rockfield ; 
but  he  could  not  forget  Alice's  request 
that  he  would  see  Tom  Tracy. 

It  was  a  touching  interview.  As  he 
drew  Tom  to  his  side,  and  put  his  arm 
around  him,  and  looked  into  his  honest, 
earnest  face,  so  animated  yet  so  full  of 
feeling,  he  burst  into  tears.  He  was  not 
ashamed  to  weep,  nor  to  lay  back  the 
bright  curls  to  kiss  the  open  forehead 
of  the  boy  with  a  womanly  tenderness. 
There  wa«  no  bitterness  in  those  tears. 
If  a  word  could  have  recalled  his  beloved 

sister   and   brought   her  from   her  home 
21 


242  TOM    TRACT 

among  the  angels,  he  would  not  have 
spoken  it;  but  it  was  inexpressibly  sweet 
to  talk  of  her  with  those  who  loved  hex 
so  tenderly  and  truly.  He  told  them  all 
the  particulars  of  her  last  hours,  and  how 
tenderly  she  had  then  remembered  Tom 
and  wished  that  he  might  become  a  noble 
and  useful  man.  In  return,  they  showed 
him  the  little  miniature,  the  books,  so 
sacredly  kept  in  the  little  parlour, — where 
no  speck  of  dust  was  ever  allowed  to  rest 
upon  them, — and  the  beautiful  engraving 
hanging  on  the  wall,  with  its  angels  bear- 
ing up  Christian  from  the  river  of  Death 
towards  the  celestial  city. 

"  I  remember  them  well,"  said  Walter 
Kay,  with  a  bright  smile,  so  like  Alice's. 
M  It  was  one  cold  day  when  Alice  desired 
ine  to  go  down  town  and  make  some  pur- 
chases for  her.  I  had  nften  heard  her 
speak  of  Tom  and  his  mother;  bur  ehe 


OF    BRIBE    HILL.  243 

then  told  me  more  about  you  both,  and 
said  she  wanted  to  send  you  eome  Christ- 
mas-gifts. She  asked  me  to  select  a  copy 
of  Pilgrim's  Progress  like  her's;  'and  I 
wish,'  she  said,  '  to  send  Tom  a  fine 
engraving.  He  likes  pictures ;  and  that 
will  be  something  he  can  always  keep  to 
remember  me  by.  I  want  it  to  be  some- 
thing he  will  value  when  he  is  older,  and 
something  which  will  perhaps  help  him  to 
become  better;  for  I  think  there  is  great 
moral  power  in  a  picture.' 

"  I  went  down  that  very  afternoon ;  and, 
after  looking  over  the  pictures  in  the 
print-shops,  I  selected  several  to  be  sent 
up  for  her  to  choose  from.  She  was  sit- 
ting up  in  bed  when  they  came.  I  laid 
one  after  another  before  her;  but  as  soon 
as  she  saw  this  sh«  exclaimed,  'Oh,  this  is 
exactly  what  I  want!  He  likes  Pilgrim's 
Pi  Dgress  so  much ;  and  this  is  ft  beautiful 


244  TOM    TEACT 

picture, — a  very  exquisite  engraving,  too. 
She  looked  at  it  a  k>ng  time,  and  then 
said,  '  I  am  glad  to  send  him  this,  for 
another  reason.  I  don't  want  him  to  re- 
gard death  as  gloomy.  I  want  him  to 
have  pleasant  and  cheerful  associations 
with  my  death.' 

"I  could  not  then  bear  to  hear  her  speak 
so  of  dying,  and  left  the  room  abruptly. 
The  next  day  I  had  it  framed ;  and  at  even- 
ing she  sat  up  and  superintended  the 
packing  of  the  box.  It  gave  her  a  great 
deal  of  pleasure;  and  more  than  once 
she  said,  '  I  hope  Mrs.  Tracy  will  like 
this,' — 'I  hope  Tom  will  be  pleased  with 
this.  I  think  he  will.'  If  ever  a  human 
being  delighted  to  make  others  happy,  she 
did, — especially  children.  She  was  very 
fond  of  them,  and  could  never  pass  one 
without  a  kind  look  <r  wcrd.  She  loved 


OF    ERIER    HILL.  245 

to  do  good,  and  was  herself  one  of  the  hap- 
piest beings  I  ever  knew." 

The  time  which  could  be  grveu  to  such 
reminiscences  was  all  too  brief,  and  the 
hour  soon  came  when  Mr.  Ray  must  bid 
them  good-by.  His  parting  words  to  Tom 
were,  "I  am  sure  you  will  not  disappoint 
the  hopes  Alice  had  for  you :  you  will  be- 
come, if  God  spares  your  life,  an  honest, 
useful,  Christian  man." 

He  placed  a  paper  in  Mrs.  Tracy's  hand, 
as  he  affectionately  pressed  it,  at  parting, 
and  whispered  a  fervent  "God  bless  you!" 

They  watched  him,  as  he  walked  rapidly 
down  the  hill,  with  tearful  eyes,  and  then 
both  said, — 

"How  much  he  is  like  Miss  Alice!" 

"  Only  he  hasn't  her  beautiful  eyes,"  said 
Tom;  "but  his  voice  is  exactly  like  her's, 
— just  so  soft  and  sweet.  How  good  it  was 

in  him  to  come  and  see  us  and   tell  us 
21* 


246  TOM    TRACY 

about  Miss  Alice !  Oh,  mother,  did  there 
ever  live  anybody  so  good  before  as  she 
was?" 

"I  don't  know,"  replied  she:  "I  dare 
say  there  have  been  a  great  many  such ; 
but  I  think  you  and  I  have  never  seen 
one  who  was  her  equal." 

"If  she  could  only  have  lived!"  sighed 
Tom. 

"She  does  live,  my  child, — she  does 
live,  and  a  far  more  beautiful  and  loving 
and  holy  life.  Let  us  try  to  love  Jesus  aa 
she  did,  that  some  day  we  too  may  go  to 
live  with  him  in  glory." 

The  paper  which  Mr.  Ray  had  given 
Mrs.  Tracy  was  found  to  contain  a  copy 
of  a  portion  of  Miss  Alice's  will,  in  which 
shs  had  directed  that  an  annuity  of  one 
hundred  dollars  should  be  paid  to  Mrs. 
Tracy  till  her  son  Thomas  shouii  become 
of  age, — "when  it  is  believed  his  own 


OP    BRIER    HILL,  24V 

efforts  will  secure  to  h*r  a  comfortable 
maintenance."  In  case  of  his  death,  it 
was  to  be  continued  during  her  natural 
life;  and  in  case  of  Mrs.  Tracy's  decease 
before  her  son  had  become  twenty -one,  it 
was  to  be  paid  to  him  until  that  time  had 
arrived. 

A  note  from  Walter  Ray,  who  was  ex- 
ecutor of  the  will,  accompanied  this  copy. 
He  stated  how  and  at  what  time  the  an- 
nuity would  be  paid,  and  added : — 

"  My  sister  had  a  large  fortune  at  her 
own  disposal,  and  she  has  remembered 
many  besides  yourself.  May  these  be- 
quests bring  to  the  recipients  as  mucn 
snjoyment  as  she  found  in  devising  them, 
is  the  wisli  of 

"  Your's,  respectfully, 

"WALTER  H.  RAY." 


248  TOM    TRACY 


CHAPTER  XV. 

CONCLUSION. 

WE  here  leave  Toin  Tracy  and  hia 
mother,  where  we  found  them,  in  the  little 
cottage  on  Brier  Hill.  The  annuity  will 
enable  them  to  discharge  their  debts,  and 
to  add  many  a  comfort  to  their  simple 
home. 

It  will  bring  no  t~ue  enjoyment  and  peace 
there,  however,  unless  Tom  succeeds  in 
destroying  the  Apollyon  who,  lurking  in 
his  heart,  would  make  even  an  Eden  a 
place  of  confusion  and  discord.  How  thia 
enemy  can  be  overcome  we  have  en- 
deavoured to  show,  and  to  point  every 
reader  to  that  Helper  whose  strong  arm 


OF    BRIER    HILL.  249 

alone  can  give  Tom,  or  any  one  of  us,  the 
victory  over  our  besetting  sin.  I  know 
not  what  Apollyon  may  be  your  foe, — what 
form  of  sin,  in  other  words,  may  peculiarly 
assail  you;  but  that  an  enemy  dwells  in 
your  heart,  and  will  make  you  wretched 
until  expelled,  I  can  safely  affirm.  You 
too  need  the  almighty  Helper  to  subdue 
the  foe;  for  your  own  strength,  in  such  a 
combat,  will  prove  but  weakness.  Many 
a  friend  can  lend  assistance,  and,  like  Miss 
Alice,  diffuse,  perhaps,  over  your  whole  life, 
a  sweet  and  purifying  influence;  but  even 
they  can  never  subdue  the  evil  inclina- 
tions of  your  heart.  It  is  only  by  coming 
to  Christ,  by  leaning  on  his  strength  and 
receiving  from  him  continual  aid  and 
guidance,  that  your  soul  can  come  off  c<_n- 
queror  in  the  warfare  it  must  wage. 
Blessed  promises  of  this  aid  are  given  to 
all  who  seok  it;  ani  none  need  despair. 


250      TOM    TRACY    OF     BRIER    HILL. 

May  your  soul  and  mine  find  them  richly 
fulfilled  in  our  own  experience,  and  be 
able  at  length  to  join  in  that  exulting 
ascription,  "  Thanks  be  to  God,  who  giveth 
us  the  victory,  through  our  Lord  Jesut 
Christ." 


LIBRARY 


